07    &&S 


m 


iMM^J^MM^^i 


WETT'S 


CHOOL 


LOCUTION. 


mm^MPl^'^M^' 


AjLjBANCROFTs&CO* 

S  AN  -FiLaJSr  CI  S  C  0:CAI/« 


»  \ 


John  3v.' 


miAJA        I 

:^ I 


S  C  H  O  O  L 


ELOCUTION. 


A  MANUAL  OF 

VOCAL  TRAINING  IN  HIGH  SCHOOLS,  NORMAL 

SCHOOLS,  AND  ACADEMIES. 


BY 

JOHN    SWETT, 

Principal  of  the  San  Francisco  Girls'  High  and  Normal  School: 

Ex-Stato    Superintendent   of    Public   Instniction,   State   of 

California;  Author  of  "Methods  of  Teaching,"  and 

a  co-editor  of  "Bancroft's  Reaclers." 


SAN  FRANaSCO: 

A.  L.  BANCROFT  &  COMPANY. 


Copyright  i;v 
A.  L.  BANCROFT  &  COMPANY, 

1884. 

.  £OUCATIU^^  U€^- 


>J- 


PRKKACK. 


A 


This  book  is  uot  an  elaborate  treatiKk  designed  for  special  teach- 
ers of  elocution,  but  a  drill-book  of  essentials  for  use  by  teachers 
that  do  not  make  elocution  a  specialty.  In  most  High  and  Normal 
schools,  and  in  the  advanced  Grammar  grades,  the  curriculum  is  so 
crowded  that  there  is  no  time  f(^"^the  special  training  given  by 
professional  teachers  of  elocution  \h  select  classes  of  private  pupils. 

Tlie  time  generally  allotted  tflTi^ading  and  elocution  seldom  ex- 
ceeds that  allowed  for  v6p«(i  music — perhaps  l>ne  or  two  hours  a 
week.  Hence  the  successnil  training  of  large  cljisses  involves  a 
great  deal  of  concert  drill;  gtid  this  requires  the  use  of  a  suitable 
manual  of  principles,  tlir^ctions,  and  drill  exercises. 

This  treatise  owes  its  existence  to  the  difficulties  met  with  in 
the  management  of  a  yery  large  High  school,  including  a  post- 
graduate Normal  department,  in  which  an  honest  effort  has  been 
made  to  secure  h  fai^  degree  of  attention  ti>  school  reading  and 
elocution. 

Fully  realizing  the  limitations  of  teachers  in  similar  schools,  I 
have  endeavor^  tdUKcep  within  the  boimds  of  what  it  is  possible 
to  accomplish^  w^hout  making  elocution  a  hobby.  Tlio  sMlient 
I>oint8  of  this  In^iid-book  are  as  follows: 

1.  It  includes  only  what  it  is  pos.sible  to  take  up  without  material 
iiiferf«i.nce  wit^  the  ordinary  school  curriculum. 

iibraoes  only  what  pupils  of  average  ability  are  capable  of 
<oin\»v»iieudin^ and  mastering. 

'.\.  It  incliMys  a  fair  outfit  of  principles  nnd  practice  for  tho««e 
who  inV^id  to  become  teachci 

4.  It  caSiJift^^flroctively  U8«mI  i,,   i,.,,  ...^  -  •>■•♦  -• - 

in  elocution.  m  ^  '^  y|  C|  /f 


IV  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

5.  It  oontains!  olorir  OTirl  fOTici»<o  statomonts  of  prinf'iplos  mitl 
rules. 

6.  It  is  characterized  by  the  copiousness  and  freshness  of  tin* 
illustrative  drill-examples. 

It  was  my  good  fortune,  more  than  thirty  years  ago,  to  be  a 
student  under  that  most  critical  and  scholarly  elocutionist  and  Nor- 
mal-school instructor,  Professor  William  Russell;  and  it  is  natural 
that  I  should  follow  in  the  steps  of  my  revered  instructor.  I  am  also 
indebted  to  many  excellent  manuals  on  elocution  for  principles  and 
examples  thnt  «'OTi«stitiito  tlio  «^-ot.-«n>r.Ti  etook  of  rnn^t'T  <>»>  t)iw  <suh- 
ject. 

I  am  under  obligations  to  the  publishers  of  the  works  of  Ameri- 
can authors  for  permission  to  make  short  extracts  from  their  pub- 
lications, and  in  particular,  to  Houghton,  Miffin  &  Co.,  for  extracts 
from  Longfellow,  Whittier,  Holmes,  Lowell,  and  Emerson. 

JOHX  SWETT. 

San  Francisco,  1884. 


CONTld^NTS 


PART  I.     ORTHOPHONY  AND  ORTHOEPY. 

I.  Introductory  Hints  and  Din-otionv  .11 

II.  Vowel  Sounds ...      15 

in.  Consonant  Sounds 35 

rV.  Classification  of  Elementary  Sounds  ...      39 

V.  Orthoepy 45 


PART  II.     PRINCIPLES  IN  ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER  I.      KM1'H.\SI> 


I'VrsKS.    AM)   TXF!.K<"TI<)\? 


I. 
II. 


III. 


Emphasis 

Pauses .                 .  G4 

I.  Grammatical  Pauses 05 

II.   Klietorical  Pauses 65 

III.  Rules  for  Rhetoricul  Pauses  69 

IV.  Etnphatic  Pauses        ...  73 
Inflection 75 

I.   The  Rising  Inflectioii         .                 .  M2 

II.    The  Falling  Inflection        .  95 

III.  Inflection  of  the  Parent hesi>  .109 

IV.  The  Circumflex  Inflection HI 

V.   The  Monotone 119 

v'l.   E.xamples  of  Pauses,  Emphasis,  and  Inflect  ion  l'i« 


CHAPTER   II.     FORCE   A XI)   STRESS. 

Force  of  Voice 

1.  Very  Soft  Force 
II.  Soft  or  Subdued  Fore 

III.  Moderate  Force 

IV.  Loud  Force 

V.  Very  Loud  or  Declamatory  Force    . 


n.    Stress  of  Voice 


I.  Radical  Stress 

II.  Median  Stress 

in.  Vanishing  Stress 

IV.  Thon)Ugh  Stress 

V.  CompoTind  Stress 

VI.  Intermittent  Stresa 

(V) 


1  11 
144 
144 
IJT 
1  r,i 
151 
155 
155 
165 
172 
175 
ISO 
181 


VI 


I  in  M  )  i,    i;  L<  M  ■  fr  I  ox. 


<ii.\i'Ti;i:  iir.    .M(»\'i;.mi:xt. 
1.  :^i...i.Tat.-  :^roN.-,M.ii' 


III  !..\.M,i.-IlI 

\'.  \'(iy   Slow    Moxfuifiil 

<II.\I'T1:K'    !\  .       IMT<   II    <»1"    \  (  >I< 

I.  lilt  indii.-lDiy 

11.  <'(.n<M'ii    Drill 

III.  Faults 

IV.  Kxamples  of  Afi.in..   )'it,-li 
\'.  IN.-iini.lrs  (,'  -li 

\'  I .  I'!\,tm]>li-s  (>\    i  ,..■>■,    1  ii.-li 

\II.  i:\;iiiipl.-   t.f    \'.  IV    L..W    I'it.-li 


IhlJ 
191 
1!M 


i:t!i 

1*011 
L'lll 


(■iiAi''i'i:K'  \ .    <J|■A!J■^^   <  >i"  \(  >!(  !•: 

1.  Tiirt'  Toiio       ...... 

li  Thr  Or. .nil,, I 

HI.  .\-  ..iliiy  

I\'.  <■":■  ^   .alitv      .  .  . 

VI.        Tilr     .^.MHln;., 


I.  MM,iuiaii,M,       ... 

II.  Tlu'   l.'ca.rm-  oL'   i',K.trv 

III.  liiiilative   K'.-iKliii- 

IV.  Jvx.T.-ivrs  in   M...lulatiMii 

\'.  Diaicc!    luailiiii,''  aial    I '•■r^oiiat  iun 


j:xii>,, --,»>: 


PART  III.      MISCELLANEOUS  SELECTIONS. 


iicTiox  I.    jn^osK  >i:i.i:(  rioN: 


j'n 


1.  Eloi-uliuiiary  TrainiiiL;-    . 

'J.  i\o(n\  lu'ading  .... 

;>.  The  ]\hisic  of  tlie  lluinai!    N'cici- 

4.  Tlic  Art  of  Ker.diim^ 

r>.  Oil  Learning  l»y  ILcart  . 

(i.  .^rliool  Liln-arie.s 

7.  Pot-ms ,     Olicr    ll'mdrll  Hidii 


-I  I 
Jnlm    S.    Hart      I'T!) 

Dr.  Hush     iNl 
Lnshingto)!     '>'.\ 


,-> 

,N«nn>j;««  and  Miul« 

9 

Defense  of  Poeti'v 

10 

Falstaff 

11 

Wealtli 

1L» 

The  Asti-<»ii<>iu<r  >> 

13 

Kihieatioii 

14 

Mathtniatic-^  ;ni»l 

*livsi( 


William  Ellery  Channimj 
Henry  (iilcs 

llnij.;,    it<fl(io  Kmcrsnn 

l'i4tfc8sor  Huxley 
II)  rhert  Sjtenvcr 


29:{ 
296 

29H 

:kx) 
:jo2 


KCTION   II.      PKuSE   DKCLAMATIONS. 


1. 

riianul«r  of  Tnie  KloqiU'iice 

Daniel   WtbsUr 

307 

12. 

National  Greatness 

John  firight 

308 

:j. 

Tlie  Passing  of  tlie  Rnbicon 

KnalvU'H 

309 

4. 

Our  Duties  to  Our  Country  . 

Ihtuivl  Webster 

310 

.'). 

The  American  War 

Lord  Chatham 

311 

6. 

Freedom           .... 

.     Col.  K.  I).  Baker 

312 

7. 

Tlie  Voices  of  the  De;ul 

.    (h'rillc  Deirey 

313 

s. 

(imttan's  Reply  to  Mr.  Corry 

. 

314 

I). 

Supposed  Speech  of  John.  Adams 

Daniel   Webster 

3ir, 

10. 

Tlie  Constitution  and  th<'  Union 

Daniel   Webster 

317 

11. 

The  Constitution     . 

Daniel  Webster 

317 

12. 

Duties  of  American  Citizens 

Daniel  Webster 

318 

13. 

Labor 

.    (h-rille  Dewey 

319 

14. 

The  Future  of  Amf»rica 

Daniel   Webster 

320 

i:>. 

Patriotism        .... 

T.  I'\  Meagher 

321 

1(5. 

The  Fom-th  of  .Inly 

Daniel  Webster 

322 

17. 

Tnu>  Greatness 

J'honias  Starr  King 

323 

18. 

The  Nornuins 

Frrderiek  V.   Traey 

32i-) 

19. 

Washington's  Birtlulay  . 

Daniel  Webster 

32G 

20. 

Nations  and  Humanity 

(iro.    W.  Curtis 

327 

21. 

Character  of  Washington 

.      /'/»7/»;w 

328 

22. 

Bunker  Hill  Monument 

Daniel   Webster 

329 

23. 

The  Birthday  of  Washington 

.    liu/ns  Choate 

331 

24. 

The  National  Clo.k 

/  IS  Statr  King 

XV2 

25. 

Free  Sehools   . 

lloraec  Mann 

:]X\ 

2(5. 

The  Ballot 

1      ff     /•/.,...;., 

:m 

27. 

Ktlueational   Power 

:;:{.-. 

2H. 

Seliools  and  Teachi-i> 

;w7 

21». 

Elements  of  the  Anu'riean  (toven 

nmeiit        Ihtniel  Webster 

338 

SKCTION    111.      UECITATION8  A> 

1)  READINGS:    I'OETRY. 

1. 

The  Crowiletl  Sti-ett 

William  Cnllen  Bryant 

340 

2. 

Tl...  UuildefH  .... 

.      U.     W.    r.nnoOUotC 

341 

VIU 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


3. 

Psalm  of  Life 

.    H.    jr.  Longfellow 

342 

4. 

Apostrophe  to  tlie  Ocean 

Lord  Byron 

344 

T). 

Battle  of  Waterloo 

Lord  Byron 

346 

(5. 

Santa  Filomena      . 

.    H.    //'.  LonfjJ'dlow 

347 

7. 

The  Death  Struggle 

Sir  Walter  Hcott 

341) 

8. 

Sandalphon 

.    Jf.    ir.  Longfellow 

350 

i). 

The  Old  Continentals     . 

McMaatcrs 

352 

io. 

The  Winds      .... 

iniliani  Cullcn  Bryant 

354 

11. 

The  Day  is  Done    . 

.    n.   W.  Longfellow 

356 

12. 

The  Battlefield 

William  C alien  Bryant 

357 

13. 

Hymn  to  Mont  Blanc 

.  Coleridge 

359 

14. 

Morning  Hymn 

John  Milton^  362 

15. 

Thanatopsis     .... 

William  Ctdlen  Bryant 

363 

16. 

Gray's  Elegy   .... 

366 

17. 

Daniel  Webster       . 

Oliver  Wendell  Ilolmeft 

371 

18. 

St.  Augustine's  Ladder 

.    If.    W.  Longfellow 

373 

19. 

Ring  Out,  Wild  BeUs    . 

Tennyson 

375 

20. 

Summer  Rain 

.1  nines  liussell  Lowell 

376 

21. 

Hymn  to  the  North  Star 

William  Cullen  Bryant 

377 

22. 

The  American  Flag 

Drake 

379 

23. 

The  Chaml)ered  Nautiln- 

(Hirer  Wendell  Holmes 

381 

24. 

Kentucky  Belle 

Coiustance  F.   Woohon 

382 

25. 

The  Chai-coal  Man     .     . 

Trowbridge 

380 

26. 

Grandmother's  Story  of  Bunker  J 

dill  .        .  a   W.  Holmes 

391 

PART    I 


\(, 


PART  I. 

ORTHOPHONY  AND  ORTHOEPY. 


SECTION    1 


IMRODUCTOHY  HINTS  AND   DIKECTIOKiS. 

U  As  correct  proimuciation  is  an  essential  of  good 
readinji:,  it  is  important  that  pupils  should  acquire  at 
the  outset  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  elementary 
sounds  of  the  English  language,  and  that  they  should 
he  trained  to  a  ready  command  of  the  organs  of  speech. 

2.  The  melody  of  our  mother-tongue  depends  in  a. 
great  measure  on  the  fullness  and  purity  with  wliidi 
the  vowel  sounds  are  given.  The  most  marked  provin- 
cialisms in  our  country  consist  chiefly  in  the  peculiar 
shades  of  sound  given  to  certain  vowels. 

3.  In  high  schools  and  nonnal  schools,  if  anywhere, 
(critical  attention  ought  to  be  given  to  pronunciation. 
It  is  desirable  that  pupils  should  become  familiar  witli 
the  diacritical  marks  of  the  dictionary  in  oixier  that 
they  may  be  able  to  find,  by  themselves,  the  con-ect 
pronunciation  of  any  word. 

4.  It  IS  the  object  of  the  iuli*)wiiig  lesM»us  lo  iiam 
(1)  the  (»ar  to  the  coiTcct  sound:  (2)  tlie  voice  to  distinct 
enunciation;  and  (3)  tli<  iln  u-.  nt  diacritical 
nuirks. 


12  SCHOOI^    ELOCUTION. 

I.    Hints  to  Teachers. 

1.  In  all  short  concert  diill  exercises,  require  pupils 
to  stand y  and  to  stand  erect.  Let  the  concert  drill  be 
preceded  by  a  breathing  exercise. 

2.  Insist  upon  it  that  pupils  hold  the  book  properly 
ill  the  left  hand,  high  enough  to  bring  the  head  erect. 

3.  In  the  more  difficult  driU  exercises,  the  teacher 
shoidd  first  read  the  examples,  requiring  pupils  to  repeat 
in  concert.  To  some  extent,  elocution  must  be  taught 
by  imitation. 

4.  The  true  economy  of  time  in  vocal  cidtuiT,  as  in 
vocal  music,  consists  in  training  targe  numbers  together. 
The  concert  drill  lessons  may  be  given  to  two  or  three 
hundred  pupils  in  the  assembly  hall  as  effectively  as  to 
a  single  class  in  the  recitation  room. 

5.  The  concert  drill  in  phonic  spelling  is  designed  to 
give  pupils  the  fidl  command  of  their  vocal  organs,  and 
also  to  secure  accurate  articidation,  enunciation,  and 
pronunciation.  At  first,  it  may  be  desirable  for  the 
teacher  to  lead  the  class,  giving  every  sound  clearly, 
forcibly,  and  distinctly. 

6.  The  grouped  lists  of  words  illustrating  the  vowel 
sounds  should  be  pronounced  distinctly  and  forcibly  by 
the  teacher,  then  by  the  class  in  concert,  and  finally, 
by  individual  pupils.  The  monosyllables  in  these  lists 
should  be  spelled  by  sound,  first  by  the  teacher,  next 
by  the  class  in  concert,  and,  finally,  by  individual  pupils. 

7.  Insist  upon  it  that  pupils  practice  every  lesson,  after 
it  has  been  read  in  school,  at  home,  by  themselves. 

8.  Impress  upon  pupils  the  fact  that  good  reading, 
like  vocal  music,  requires  long-continued  practice. 

9.  Insist  upon  it  that  pupils,  when  reading,  shall  raise 
their  eyes  from  the  book  when  approaching  the  end  of 
a  sentence,  and  repeat  the  last  five  or  ten  words  look- 
ing directly  at  the  teacher  or  the  class. 


13 


II.    Hints  to  Pi'pils. 

1.  Stand  ere(^t  when  yon  read,  and  liold  the  book  in 
yonr  left  liand,  high  enough  to  bring  the  hejul  erect. 

2.  By  frequent  inhalations,  keep  your  lungs  well  filled 
with  air. 

I].  Read  loud  enough  to  be  easily  hoard  by  every  iiuiii- 
ber  of  your  class.  If  possible,  lo()]<  .x.  i  the  advance 
lesson  before  the  hour  of  class  drill. 

4.  After  the  class  drill  at  s(*hool,  read  each  lesson  by 
yourself  at  home.  You  can  become  a  good  reader  only 
by  patient  and  persevering  practice. 

5.  If  you  have  any  marked  faults  in  reading,  you 
must  endeavor  to  correct  them  bj'  self-culture  out  of 
scliool. 

(>.  Enter  into  the  spirit  of  whatever  you  read,  and 
read  it  so  as  to  convey  that  spirit  to  those  who  listen. 

7.  Think  about  ihc  meaning  of  what  you  read.  Refer 
to  the  dictionary  for  the  definition  of  any  word  you  do 
not  fully  comjrehend,  or  for  the  pronunciation  of  any 
word  with  wliich  you  are  not  familiar. 

8.  Listen  att^^ntively  to  the  reading  of  your  teacher, 
or  of  the  best  readers  in  the  class,  and  try  to  imitate 
their  style  of  reading. 

9.  Train  yourself  to  the  habit  of  raising  your  eyes 
from  the  book  to  look  at  \he  teacher  or  the  class.  It 
is  a  nnitter  of  politeness  to  look  at  those  to  whom  you 
speak,  or  to  whom  you  read.  As  you  approach  the  end 
of  a  sentence,  glance  your  eyt>  along  the  words  in  ad- 
vance of  the  tongue,  and  then  complete  tht^  sentence 
without  looking  on  the  book.  It  is  a  good  plan  to 
practice  this  by  yourself  before  a  mirror. 

10.  Endeavor  to  become  so  familiar  with  the  diacrit- 
ical marks  that  you  can  find  out,  for  yourself,  from  the 
dictionary,  the  pronunciation  of  any  word  without  re- 
ferring^ to  ihi"  V"\'.  t^'"  table  <»f  -<»'iv'l<,  or  the  teacher. 


14 


in.      pRELmiNABY   BREATHING   EXERCISES. 

Concert  drill  pxercises  in  articulation  ami  pronunciation 
should  be  preceded  by  short  bre^thituj  exercises.  These 
may  be  conducted  in  a  great  variety  of  waysj  of  which 
only  a  few  are  here  indicated.  The  lenyth  of  time  in 
inhaling  or  exhaling  maff  hf  rer/tthtfrd  htf  fhp  ris-p  or  fall 
of  the  teacher's  hand. 

1.  Stand  erect;  feet  firm;  bodybraeed;  shoulders  well 
ba<».k;   arms  akimbo. 

2.  Inhale  slowly  through  the  nostrils  for  five  seconds; 
exhale  slowly  through  the  nostrils  for  five  seconds. 
Repeat  five  times.  Regulate  the  inhaling  and  exhaling 
by  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  hand.  In  inhaling,  fiU  the 
lower  part  of  the  lungs  and  do  not  elevate  the  shoulders. 

3.  Take  a  similar  exercise,  prolonging  the  time,  first 
to  ten  seconds,  next  to  fifteen  seconds,  and  finally  to 
twenty  seconds. 

4.  Inhale;  exhale  slowly,  giving,  in  a  soft  whisper, 
the  sound  of  '^  Ah !  ^  prolonged  for  five  seconds ;  ten 
seconds;  as  long  as  possible. 

5.  Inhale;  exhale  slowly,  giWng  the  sound  of  long  o, 
in  pure  tone,  prolonged  for  five  seconds;  next  for  ten 
seconds;  then  for  fifteen  seconds;  and  finally,  as  lonij 
as  possil^le, 

6.  Inhale;  exliale  slowly,  giving  for  ten  seconds  tht* 
S(mnd  of  long  e;   of  Italian  a;   of  long  (>■ 

7.  Inhale;  repeat,  in  monotone,  the  long  \  .u.  ,^.  /.  -.  ;. 
o,  Uj  until  the  breath  is  exliausted. 

8.  Inhale;  count,  Avith  one  breath,  to  10;  next,  to  20; 
then,  to  30. 

9.  Repeat,  in  one  breath,  the  letters  of  the  alphabet. 

10.  Inhale  slowly;  exhale  slowly,  giving  the  sound  of 
Uquid  I  prolonged  for  five  seconds;  ten  seconds;  fifteen 
seconds;  twenty  seconds;  next,  the  sound  of  m;  of  n; 
of  r. 


ir> 


SECTION    II 

1.       TaHLI.    ()1      i>lA(ini  ICAL    MAKKlN«iS. 

I.  phonk;  marks  of  vocals. 


Macron. 

Breve. 

Circumflex. 

Two  dots. 

One  dot. 

Wave  or 

- 

- 

^ 

•  • 

• 

Tilde.  " 

alo 

At 

Ail- 

arm,  all 

ask,  what 

evo,  tlifv 

end 

where 

her 

Ice,   by 

It,  K'lix 

pique 

s!t* 

old 

(In 

Ar 

prove 

son,  Avolf 

m(M")ii 

})(M^)k 

use 

U]. 

urire 

rule 

pull 

II.       I,«MI\AI>;M     \OtAl.s    OK    M  ItNllTl  Ti:s. 


a=r6 

wliut,    nr)t 

(')  :      \\ 

.ly.iir. 

>  i'l!  1 

e-a 

they,     (lay 

O,    U  ^  <K> 

move. 

nilc,     ,-<iM».i 

I-o 

sir,        lier 

o,  n  :*  (¥-> 

wolf. 

pull,       W<M)1 

6=a 

there. 

v\\\  inc. 

lime 

i  =  e 

pique,  weak 

y    I 

h5'nin, 

wiiTm 

6  =  a 

(V,         all 

1 

i 

Hi.      \i\i:kin<.-»    «>i     sii;\o<  ai.n     \m»    AsprRATKS. 


(J,    (,*h  :     S,    Sll 

<;ent,    (;hai§e 

§  =  z 

i§,      ro§e 

«,  eh:  k 

eake,   a-eh(^ 

th,  for^/ 

tfiis,  tfiat 

g,  /irtn? 

Tro^           <>et 

11     ii'^' 

ink.    Nviiik 

^'-  J 

^reni,    a'Ve            ^ 

>C--gZ 

(^$nniple 

16 


Sr  n  (  .( 


r.  I .  ( 


r  I 


IT.    Illustrations  of  VocaIjS. 
I.     The  lon^  sound  of  a. 

Marked  with  a  macron,  thus — a.  The  equivalents  of 
long  a  are  also  included.  Avoid  prolonjriiiir  tlic  vaiiisli- 
ing  e  sound,  thus — ma-eed  for  mad* 

age  day  break  great 

pale  gay  steak  straight 

aid  may  d§ign  weight 

paid  way  r§ign  freight 


gauge 
yea 
neigh 
sleigh 


WORDS   OFTEN   MISPRONODNCED 

a' re  a  ra'dix  prai'rie 

na'ked  ra'tion  €ais'son 

may'or  pa'tron  gla'mom- 

ma'tron  past'ry  hein'ous 

ma'cron  sa'chom  pa'tri  ot 


a'pri  cot 
ap  pa  ra'tus 
niaerstrom 
j  >;!  tri  6t'ic 
va'ri  0  <rat  od 


n.    Italian  or  open  a. 

Marked  with  two  dots  over  it,  thus — ii.     Avoid  the 
provincialism  of  h&f  for  half,  ISf  for  laugh,  etc. 


art 

^mf 

palm 

ah! 

giiunt 

launch 

are 

hiilf 

psalm 

bah! 

hiiunt 

staunch 

arm 

halves 

salve 

paths 

j  iiunt 

laugh 

jilms 

•calves 

liith 

iiunt 

taunt 

qualms 

balm 

bath 

gape 

daunt 

criiuncli 

I       zouave 

€alm 

path 

wrath 

flaunt 

haunch 

hearth 

WORDS   OFTEN 

MISPRONOUNCED. 

daunt'less 

jaun'dice 

saun' 

ter 

Col  0  ra'do 

gua'va 

laun'dry 

jaunt 

,'y 

Ne  va'da 

gua'no 

laugh 'ter 

pi  a' no 

Mon  ta'na 

gaunt 'let 

Ua'ma 

so  pra'no 

Tu  la're 

haunt 'ed 

plii'za 

ftna 

le 

So  la'no 

s<Mn  H  .  I.    i:  I.I  i<  I    I  1  (>N.  17 

m.     The  broad  sound  of  a. 

Marked  with  two  dots  under  it,  thus — a.  Avoid  the 
two  extremes:  (1)  That  of  giving^  a  the  sound  of  short 
o,  as  oU  for  awl,  etc.  (2)  That  of  making  a  equal  to 
two  svll.iMt's,  as  nw'rd  for  all.  caw'ill  for  eall,  etc. 


ball 

■■.i\iix\;\ 

rh;ilk 

iil'der 

fan' (jet 

tail 

nnght 

talk 

al'ways 

«al'dron 

<lrawl 

brought 

sitalk 

au'ger 

fal'ijhion 

erawl 

th6ught 

gauze 

€au'-eus 

pal'tr>' 

sprawl 

groat 

haul 

.    sau'ijer 

6r'der 

IV.     The  short  sound  of  a. 

Marked  with  a  breve,  thus — &.  Avoid  giving  short  a, 
as  in  &t,  the  sound  of  intermediate  a,  as  in  ask,  or  of 
Italian  a,  as  in  alms.  Say  ftnd,  not  and;  Sn'swer,  not 
iin'swer,  etc. 


ftnd 

an'swer 

pat'ent 

ra'tion  al 

bade 

bar'rel 

pfig'eant 

rail'le  ly 

«&tch 

hSr'row 

rath'er 

sat'ir  ist 

plant 

mSr'ry 

na'tion  al 

suav'i  ty 

plaid 

nar'row 

pat'ron  age 

tap'est  ry 

V.     Sound  of  a  as  in  cfire. 

Marked  with  a  circumflex,  thus — a.  Avoid  tin-  Iwn 
extremes:  (1)  That  of  giving  it  the  sound  of  Italian  a, 
as  char  for  ch&ir,  thiir  for  there,  etc.  (2)  That  of  long 
fl,  as  <ea'er  for  €Are,  tha'er  for  there,  a'er  for  &ir,  etc. 


&ir 

swe&r 

tliere 

pare 

pAr'ent 

dtlre 

squ&re 

where 

pMr 

fair'y 

Wire 

wefir 

th^ir 

ffire 

chfir'y 

fjlir 

hare 

hair 

lair 

seArcc'ly 

iM'ar 

pear 

hrir 

pr&yer 

s€&r'^i  ty 

18 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


VI.    Intermediate  a,  as  in  ask. 

Marked  with  a  dot  over  it,  thus— a.  This  is  a  medium 
sound  between  Italian  a  and  short  a.  Avoid  the  two 
extremes:  (1)  That  of  Italian  a,  as  farst  for  fast,  diiraoe 
for  dance,  etc.  (2)  That  of  short  a,  as  ftsk  for  I'lsk,  dance 
for  dance,  ftf'ter  for  after,  etc. 


ask 

ehant 

dance 

graft 

lance 

quaff 

ant 

ehaff 

daft 

grant 

mass 

nift 

aft 

elianee 

draft 

glaiK  < 

mast 

rasp 

bjisk 

east 

draught 

gasp 

mask 

shaft 

basque 

elass 

fast 

grasp 

pass 

staff 

l)rass 

eraft 

flask 

hasp 

l)ast 

slant 

blast 

elasj) 

glass 

haft 

pant 

task 

♦'Ascjue 

eask 

grass 

last 

l^raiKM' 

tn'inee 

I.     WORDS   OmSN   MISPRONOUNCED. 

In  all  these  words  be  careful  to  give  a  its  intermediate 
sound  as  in  ask,  not  the  short  sound  as  in  find. 


after 

fast' er 

mas'ter 

pass'port 

bas'ket 

fast 'est 

mas'tiff 

raft'er 

eas'ket 

glass'y 

pas'time 

slant' in  g 

elass' es 

grass'y 

pas 'tor 

task' work 

eraffy 

last'ing 

plas'ter 

vast'ness 

erafts'man 

mass'ive 

past'ure 

waft'ed 

II.     WORDS    OFTEN   MISPRONOUNCED. 

a  slant'  com  mand'  ad  van'tage 

a  mass'  dis  mast'  ad  vance'ment 

a  las'  de  maud'  com  mand'ment 

avast  enhance'  enchant'ment 

ad  vance  en  chant'  en  hance'ment 

a  baft'  per  chance'  re  mand'ed 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


10 


VII.     Sound  of  a  as  in   wliat. 

Marked  with  a  dot  undt*r  it,  thus — a.  Tliis  sound  is 
equivalent  to  short  o,  as  in  n5t.  The  word  ivhat  is 
pronounced  hw6t,  not  wilt. 

was  squash  squab'ble 

wad  swap  squat' ter 

wasp  swan  squal'id 

yacht  swamp  squad'ron 

squab  swab  quar'rel 

squad  wand  swal'low 

CdU  on  the  class  for  additioual  icords. 


star  wart 
wal-let 
wal'low 
wad 'die 
wan 'ton 
was' sail  ^ 


►  Aivr^ 


VIII.     The  long  sound  of  e. 

^larked  with  a  macron,  thus — e.     Long  e  is  one   of 
the  three  vowel  extremes,  a  and  o  being  the  other  two. 


be 

thief 

ei'ther 

e'go  tism 

tree 

niece 

nei'ther 

e'qui  poise 

beam 

siege 

lei'gure 

le'ni  ent 

■elean 

seize 

le'ver 

a  me'na  bio 

ear 

deed 

fe'brile   , 

pre  (jed'ence 

eaves 

fierce 

fe'ti^h 

w 

re' qui  em 

IX. 

The  short  sound  of  e. 

Marked  with  a  breve,  thus — < 

A  \  oid  yit  for  y6t,  aig 

for  ^gg, 

etc. 

Ug 

t^oftr/  ■' 

iCath'er 

kOL'llc 

t^p'id 

leg 

an'y 

m?a§'ure 

metric 

ten'ct 

brfad 

nu^r'ry 

pl^a.^'ure 

preface 

rgs'in 

said 

bur'y 

bes'tial 

pet'rel 

a  gain' 

says 

hCif'er 

<l...'n,lr 

pgr'uke 

a  gainst' 

dgaf 

l?op'ard 

let' id 

S^fk'rl 

for  get' 

20 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


X.     Sound  of  e  as  in  verge. 

Marked  with  -  a  wave  or  tilde,  thus — e.  This  sound 
nearly  coincides  with  the  sound  of  u  as  in  urge,  but  is 
not  quite  so  broad  and  guttural.  Avoid  the  error  of 
sounding  e  like  ai,  as  airth  for  earth,  etc.  Give  the  /• 
after  e  its  f uU  sound. 


err 

serve 

earth 

er'mine 

serv'ant 

her 

verse 

earn 

earn 'est 

ver'dict 

herd 

verge 

learn 

mer'cy 

herb 'age 

fern 

verb 

heard 

mer' chant 

earn'ings 

pert 

were 

myrrh 

per' son 

ser'mon 

nerve 

genu 

thirst 

per'fect 

ser'vice 

XI.     Sound  of  e  as  in  th^re. 
Marked  with   a   circumflex,   thus — ^.      This  sound   is 


identical  with  the  sound  of  (/  as  in  care, 
there  air»  hair 


where 
their 


air» 
ere 


e'er 


heir 
ne^er 


there 'fore 
where 'fore 
wMre  a§' 


XII.     Sound  of  e  as  in  they. 

Marked  with  a  macron  under  it,  thus — e.  This  sound 
is  identical  with  long  a. 

they  whey  weight  vein  neigh 'bor 

prey  way  freight  vain  hein'ous 

pray  neigh  straight  deign  la'bor 


XIII.     The  long  sound  of  i  and  y. 

Marked  with  a  macron,  thus — ^i,  y. 

isle  die  bar  fire 

style  eye  lyre  buy'er 

fire  ties  by  ti'ny 

lyre  aye§  rye  ty'rant 


ho  ri'zon 
in  quir'y 
de  ri'sive 
as  pir'ant 


s  n  I  ()  ( )  I 


21 


Xi\  .       i  lu-   MUM  i    .s<miui   «>!     i    a 

Marked  with  a  breve,  thus — I,  y. 
iiii  Ij^nx  dls'trict 


li5'mn 
withe 
ni5'th 
pith 


njhiiph 
s5^1ph 
rhj^thin 
schism 


11(1  y. 


sj^n'od 
vine'yard 
syr'inge 
sjhi'tax 


trtb'une 

syr'up 

vie'ar 

pret'ty 

wit'ty 


x\.     .>«Miiia  (»!'  i  as  in  first. 

Marked  with  a  wave  or  tilde,  thus — I. 
identical  with  the  sound  of  e  as  in  her. 
the  broader  and  more  guttuml  sound  of 
Be  careful  to  give  r  its  fuU  sound. 


first 
t  hlnsl 
>Irl 

mirth 
Ill-Ill 

WOl'lll 

world 
w()rk 

Wdl'Si' 
Wnl-tll 


bli'ch 

birth 

dirge 

verge 

earth 

iii>Trh 

dearth 

bird 

gird 

pearl 


sir 

fii- 

stir 

earn 

feni 

learn 

her 

pgrcli 

heaid 

hearbc 


Vir'-ele 

(^Ir'-euit 

(;ir'-eiis 

gir'dle 

Trk'some 

IMri-'(;y 

r-arth'iy 
r-ar'ly 
•  •arn'est 
earth 'en 


This  sound  is 
Avoid  giving 
M  as  in  iirge. 

vli-'tue 

vir'gin 

stir'rup 

squlr'rel 

sir' loin 

thir'ty 

worth 'y 

(,'er'taiii 

niirth'ful 

wort]ri«'« 


XVI.     Sound  of  i  as  in  pique. 


Marked  with  two  dots 

over  it,   thus— i. 

This  sound 

is  equivah 

'lit 

to  tlijit  of  loner  e  as  in  me. 

an  ti'que' 

*Mii  >'in.'' 

nia  chine 

roll  1 11. < 

bas  tie' 

de  bris 

ma  rine' 

ra  vine' 

€a  prT(^e' 

C  lite' 

po  lice' 

re  gime' 

vhe  nillt/ 

en  nni" 

pe  tit^' 

ton  tine' 

<;he  nu.se' 

fa  tigue' 

ob  lique' 

u  nique' 

eri  tique' 

fas  eine' 

pe  lisse' 

phy  sique' 

22 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


XVII.     The  long  sound  of  o. 

Marked  with  a  macron,  thus — o.  Avoid  shortening 
or  obscuring  the  sound  of  long  o  as  in  old,  in  such 
words  as  road,  coat,  home,  bone,  stone,  etc. 


bone 

€6lt 

jolt 

yoke 

on'ly 

stone 

€omb 

most 

yolk 

o'ral 

both 

dolt 

smoke 

quoth 

whol'ly 

broke 

folks 

spoke 

beau 

close 'ly 

choke 

hold 

flown 

show 

lone  ly 

cloak 

home 

whole 

won't 

tro  phy 

croak 

roam 

more 

don't 

o'pal 

oak 

hold 

roar 

goat 

o'dor 

I.     WORDS    OFTEN    MTSPRONOUNCED. 

Avoid  the  error  of  saying  horse  for  hoarse,  force  for 
force. 


boat 

•coax 

door 

«oarse 

goui-d 

blow 

■coat 

load 

floor 

hoarse 

mourn 

trow 

toad 

loam 

brooch 

source 

toU 

glow 

toast 

oath 

pour 

force 

poU 

sew 

road 

oats 

porch 

board 

scroll 

quoth 

goad 

throat 

borne 

hoard 

roll 

gross 

II.    WORDS   OFTEN    MISPRONOUNCED.  . 

In  words  like  the  following,  avoid  the  error  of  giv- 
ing long  0  the  sound  of  o  as  in  or'der;  as  bor'der  for 
board 'er,  for'ger,  for  for'ger,  por' trait  for  por'trait, 
etc.     Give  o  its  full,  long  sound. 


board' er 

por'ter 

an  cho'vy 

de  -eo'rous 

bowl'der 

por'tion 

a  ro'ma 

di  plo'ma  9y 

bow' sprit 

por'trait 

ab  do 'men 

di  plo'ma  tist 

pour  try 

for'ger 

■CO  ro'na 

op  po'nent 

poul'tice 

stor'age 

•eon  do'lence 

so  no'rous 

shoul'der 

mourn' er 

■cog  no 'men 

for'ger  y 

SCHOOL 


23 


XViU.      Tile   .sIj 


nd  of  O. 


Marked  with  a  breve,  thus — 6.  The  sound  of  short 
0,  as  in  n6t,  is  slightly  modified  by  tlie  different  con- 
sonants with  which  it  is  combined.  In  words  like  cough, 
gone,  loss,  etc.,  the  sound  of  short  o  is  modified  so  that 
it  tends  towards  a  sound  int<3rmediate  between  short  o 
and  broad  a.  Avoid  the  common  error  of  saying  dawg 
or  dorg  for  d6g;  gawd  or  gord  for  g5d;  also,  that  of 
giit  for  got,  etc. 

6ff  -cOst  luoth  cough 

sc5ff  lost  cloth  trough 

m5ss  frost  6ft  long 

15ss  sl5th  sCft  strong 

t6ss  brOth  I5ft  g^"g 

€r6ss  trOth  g6ne  wr6ng 


6n 

d5g 

6f 

f6g 

5dd 

I5g 

b5x 

g5t 

f6x 

g6d 

phl5x 

h5d 

WOKDS    OFTKN    MISPRONOITNCED. 


ery  word  give  o  its  clean-cut  short 


cOni'ma 

€5m'mon 

<e6m'et 

€6m'bat 

•e5m'rade 

eOriar 

eftn'flict 

eon'strue 


docj'Ile 

d6u'key 

f5r'est 

f5re'head 

fi-on'tier 

f6r'age 

gSd'ly 

sl5th'ful 


fldr'in 

hov'el 

grOv'el 

hor'rid 

joe'und 

I6ft'y 

sOft'ly 

Oft 'en 


sound. 

m5n'ad 

n5m'ad 

df'floe 

Or'ange 

5ff'set 

5ff'ing 

dOg'raa 

d5c'tor 


b5n'net 
eOf'fee 
€5f'fin 
eOr'al 

prod'uct 
prod 'lice 


II.      \VOUi>S    Ol    I 

proy'ess 

pr6g'ress 

pr6j'ect 

phOn'ic 

prOv'ost 

sOn'net 


Ml-^l-Ko>(>l/NCED. 


>iorid 
squal'id 
quar'rel 
be  trOth' 
be  long' 
extol' 


dor  or  ous 
hOl'o  •eaust 
mOn'o  gram 
mol'e  <eiUe 
on'er  ous 
or 'a  «le 


24 


SCHOOL 


.  < » ( "  r  !■  1 1 » X  . 


XIX.     Sound 

of 

o  as  in   <l(')in'. 

Marke< 

1       NS 

nil     ;i     (ImI     ,,\, 

rV 

11.    llin> — <).      Tl 

lis  sound   is 

i(!rlilic;il 

\\l\ 

!l     >il<'I1     "     ■A> 

in 

>  11  n . 

none 

some 

a  bove' 

oven 

does 

toiitriK^ 

bom 'bast 

on'iou 

dotli 

IMMll^'h 

iM.r'ougb 

6th 'er 

dost 

foKcr 

mv't'V 

plov'er 

-eome 

+M't\       ct 

hov'.T 

•pons'iii 

bomb 

(!«''/'«-ii 

Ik'ui'i'V 

slnv'..n 

hlood 

■eon 'jure 

ni('>n'L;-i*t'l 

\\<")r'ry 

XX.     Sound  ol'  u  a>  in   ni<>v(x 

^larked   wiili  two  dots  under  il.  tlins — <».     Tlii^  >ouud 
is   identical    with    tlial    <•!"    nn   in    nnxin,   and   -  cr  r, 

as  in  nil  ■.  .\\oid  the  pro\incialisiii  (»!'  ivdnrin--  thr 
sound  of  ".  'u,,  and  n  Im  that  of  long'  ii  or  <h\  thus — 
(l''\v    ii^v  d(..    ti'ew  .    i'-\v  for  t-o,  yew  f<»;-   y._>ii, 

skewl  tor  scIkTuI.  cii-.  i  ii^  xtund  of  o.  (m").  or  u  is  one 
of  tin'  ('xtiTuics  ol'  till-  \(AV('l  M-alf.  made  eorrectly  by 
l)rojectinL;-  tin-  lips    I'm-   lV(»ni    the   t<'<'th. 


in()ve 

lioof 

croup 

youth 

+'a  n(M'' 

prove 

roof 

group 

truth 

a  d<)' 

h)so 

root 

soup 

through 

sham  poo 

(io 

boot 

when")}) 

grew 

bam  boo' 

to 

spoon 

hA)p 

tool 

tat  toT)' 

too 

soon 

route 

ghoul 

a]»  pr()ve' 

two 

IKlTiU 

s]l('H)t 

con  t<_»ur' 

re  proc)f' 

you 

sch(">(")l 

wound 

l)a  r()uehe' 

be  hove' 

n(M")se 

ride 

s(H")n 

ear  tou(;he' 

gam  boge 

loose 

f(Tol 

UKh")!! 

ta  boo 

de  tour' 

eool^ 

rude 

your 

rurer 

who 

goose 

ruse 

shoe 

nn^)ve'ment 

whom 

moose 

ehoc).<e 

S(x)the 

moon 'shine 

whose 

spoon 

fruit 

tour 

ob  trude 

ru'ral 

Sf^llooT,    v.T.nrvTiny .  25 

\\i      Sound  of  o  as  iu  for. 

Marked  witli  a  c-iruuniflex,  thus — 6.  This  sound  of  o 
is  identical  with  broad  a  as  in  all.  It  occurs  before  r 
iu  words  of  oue  syllable;  in  accented  syllables  when 
not  followed  by  another  r;  and  also  in  the  derivatives 
of  such  words  as  n6rth,  ndrthem,  etc.  Be  careful  to 
give  r  its  full  sound. 


or 

€6rpse 

•eor'dial 

-ur   i;rini> 

<ul     in-V 

tor 

horse 

bor'der 

m6r'tal 

c6r'ni<;e 

nor 

st6rm 

for'niid 

nior'sel 

6r'der 

bom 

tho7-n 

for'^eps 

mort'gage 

«V<;}inrd 

XXII.     Sound  of  o  as  in  wolf. 

Marked  with  a  dot  under  it,  thus — o.  Tliis  sound  is 
identical  with  that  of  short  oOj  as  in  bo()k,  aud  that  of 
K  as  in  fidl. 


,Vnlf 

vould  n^t 

wors'ted 

b(X)k 

pull 

.vould 

\v(.)uld  n't 

wolfish 

€o6k 

h(k)d 

MMlM 

should  n't 

gc)6d'ness 

ho6k 

put 

)o'.soin 

wood' en 

wo'man 

l()6k 

push 

XXIII.     The  long  sound  of  u. 

Marked  with  a  macron,  thus — u.  This  is  a  compound 
sound,  formed  of  a  slight  sound  of  y  joined  with  oo 
long.  After  J,  /,  Z,  n,  and  Sj  it  is  somewhat  difficidt  to 
introduce  the  y  sound.  Avoid  the  two  extremes:  (1) 
That  of  overdoing  the  y  sound,  so  as  to  make  du'ty 
^ound  like  jii'ty.  (2)  That  of  sounding  u  like  oo  long, 
IS  'Mo'ty  for  du'ty. 


U5C 

€ube 

due 

lieu 

suit 

pun' 

tu§e 

€ure 

sue 

view 

deuce 

lure 

mu§e 

tube 

hue 

ewe 

lud 

dupe 

Hlfltn 

tfino 

flfio 

noAv 

slui('»» 

dtine 

26  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

I.     WORDS    OFTEN   MISPRONOUNCED. 


bu'gle 

flu'id 

inti'sic 

hu'mid 

beau'ty 

hu'mau              pu'pil 

nui'saiK/c 

eu'bk 

ju'ry 

pu'trid 

neu't<3r 

du'ty 

lu'pluo                stu'pid 

suit' or 

n. 

WORDS 

OFTKN     MlSl'KONOl  NCKI) 

€0111  mu'nl  -eate 

€om  mu'ni  ty 

lu'na  vy 

eon  sti  tu'tion 

€u'inu  la  tive 

lu'na  tic 

el  o  €u'tioii 

Ifi'min  a  ry 

iiifi'fji  -eal 

rev  0  lu'tion 

111  gu'bri  ous 

ed'  u  -eate 

in  sti  tu'tion 

per  pe  tu'i  ty 

eSl'-eu  late 

XXIV.  The  short  sound  of  u. 

Marked  with  a  bi'eve,  thus — u.  Avoid  the  vulgarism 
of  saying  5p  for  tip,  6n'der  for  iiii'der,  etc.  Say  hur'ry, 
not  hur'ry;   €oiir'age,  not  «ur'age. 

bud  biir'row  iin'der  €ur'ren  cy 

buff  fur'row  iip'per  sov'er  eign 

diimb  milr'raiu  ut'ter  hui*'ri  cane 

«iir'ry  fliir'ry  giit'ter  drom'e  da  ry 

XXV.  Sound  of  u  as  in  nile. 

Marked  Avith  two  dots  under  it,  thus — u.  This  sound 
of  u,  when  it  follows  the  consonant  r,  is  identical  with 
that  of  0  as  in  move,  and  oo  in  moon.  Rule  rh^^nes 
with  fool,  rude  with  nulod,  true  mth  too,  you  with  gi*ew. 


briite 

riile 

bnii§e 

prii'den^e 

ru'mor 

friiit 

school 

■erui§e 

pru'dent 

tru'ant 

€nide 

truth 

■eru'el 

prud'ish 

tru'ly 

riide 

youth 

gi'u'el 

ru'in 

truffle 

prude 

true 

bru'tal 

ru'ral 

dru'id 

prime 

chew 

brn'in 

ruthless 

do'ing 

SCHOOL    i;i.<H   rrioN  .  27 

XXVI.     Sound  ot  u  as  in  urge. 

Marked  with  a  circumflex,  thus — ii.  This  sound  occurs 
in  monosyllables  before  r  not  followed  by  a  vowel j  in 
accented  syllables  before  r  final,  or  r  followed  by  one 
or  more  consonants  diiferent  from  itself,  and  in  deriva- 
tives from  any  such  words.  It  coincides  with  c  as  in 
verge,  i  as  in  thirst,  and  o  as  in  word,  except  that  <i  is 
somewhat  broader  and  more  guttural. 


bdrn 

furl 

spurt 

word 

sfir'geon 

burst 

hurl 

sptei 

work 

stur'geon 

€ur 

hiirt 

piirge 

worm 

milr'der 

€iirl 

piirse 

urn 

world 

mdr'mur 

<Mn's.- 

mlrse 

turn 

worth 

bilr'den 

xxvn.    Sound  of  u  as  in  f\dl. 

Marked  with  a  dot  under  it  thus — u.  This  sound  is 
identical  with  tluit  of  o  as  in  wolf,  and  short  oo  as  in 
book. 


bldl 

puss 

bul'lock 

pul'let 

bush 

pull 

butch'er 

pul'ley 

push 

fiill 

bush'e§ 

pill' pit 

put 

wolf 

bid'rush 

pud'ding 

wood 

c^k 

bid'let 

put'tinir 

XXVIII.    The  diphthong  oi  as  in  oil. 

The 

diphthongs  oi 

and  01/  1 

are  equivalents. 

Tlie  sound 

of  oi 

is  a  compound 

of  a+I. 

oil 

hoist 

foist 

joy 

l)orer 
fei'ter 

boil 

moist 

poi§e 

troy 

broil 

joist 

noi§e 

boy 

roy'al 

€oil 

toil 

quoit 

buoy 

loy'al 

€oin 

8oiL 

point 

toy 

oint'ment 

loin 

roil 

joint 

oys'ter 

voy'age 

2S  SCHOOl 

XXIX.     The  diphthongs  ou  uud  ow. 

The  diphthong  ou,  identical  with  oWj  is  a  compound 
of  a  4-0.  Open  the  mouth  freely  in  giving  the  initial 
of  this  sound. 


out 

eow 

^uund 

hour 

bower 

ounce 

how 

round 

flour 

power 

our 

now 

sound 

sour 

lower 

doubt 

owl 

«lown 

S€Our 

shower 

drought 

fowl 

di'own 

plow 

tower 

gouge 

howl 

frown 

slough 

dower 

III.    KxERcis^  ON  .Vocals. 

I.     HINTS   AND^  SUGGESTIONS. 

Concert  drill  exerciser  on  the  following  table  tnaii  hr 
ijiven  as  follows: 

1.  Preliminary  breathing  exercise. 

2.  Concert  phonic  spelling  of  the  words  under  each 
vocal 

3.  Concert  pronunciation  of  words,  with  various  de- 
grees of  force  from  the  whisper  to  loud  force,  and  with 
the  rising,  the  falling,  and  the  circumflex  inflections. 

4.'  If  time  will  allow,  require  each  pupil,  singly,  to 
take  the  drill  indicated  above. 

n.     TABLE   OF   VOCAL>. 

a. — ale,  sail,  pay,  they,  vein,  gauge,  break,  gaol, 
a. — ah!  are,  half,  laugh,  hearth,  guard,  aunt,  alms, 
a,  6. — aU,  awe,  aught,  broad,  stalk,  naught,  ought, 
a. — add,  and,  ^t,  bade,  plaid,  cStch,  man,  hand, 
a,  e. — air,  dare,  bear,  there,  square,  ere,  heir,  ^'er. 
a. — ant,  ask,  dance,  chjince,  glass,  last,  staff,  gasp, 
ji,  5. — was,  wand,  wasp,  what,  swap,  not,  bl5t,  g5d. 
e. — me,  we,  bee,  bean,  fierce,  niece,  seize,  key,  tea. 
?. — ^nd,  drgad,  said,  say§,  dSaf,  fgoff,  ySs,  gSt,  y6t. 


srnnn  ■      •  i  i  ox.  29 

TAltl^K    *»!•     \tKAI.s.— Continued. 

e,4,.— $rr,  her,  earth,  were,  verge,  m>TTh,  tlurst,  work, 
t,  a. — vein,  deign,  rein,  they,  prey,  weight,  neigh 
6,  4. — there,  where,  air,  ere,  bare,  ne'er,  c4re,  e'er. 
i,  f. — ice,  pine,  fire,  l5Te,  lie,  liar,  aisle,  aye§,  eye§. 
I. — In,  pin,  been,  h^'mn,  m^'th,  sieve,  bu!l(l,  since. 
I,  5. — thirst,  first,  girl,  eani,  learn,  bird,  third,  worst. 
1,  e. — pique,  clique,  ob  lique',  pel  ice',  ma  rine'. 
o. — old,  oak,  broke,  pour,  ore,  door,  toll,  sew,  tow. 
6,  a. — odd,  nr)t,  dog,  god,  l5st,  6ff,  cough,  moss,  lOss. 
o,  6o,  u. — m(,)ve,  moon,  ride,  do,  rout^,  true,  gi'ew,  you. 
6,  a. — or,  nor,  horse,  quart,  wart,  corn,  storm,  born. 
6,  ti. — done,  son,  d6e§,  doth,  sponge,  blood,   flood,   riin. 
o,  d6,- u. — wolf,   would,   wood,    shoidd,    bo6k,   cook,    put. 
u. — u§e,  mu§e,  due,  few,  view,  feud,  tfine,  cube,  tiibe. 
tt,  6. — tiib,  biit,  diist,  triist,  done,  d6e§,  bomb,  crumb, 
u,  6o,  o. — nile,  rude,  truth,  youth,  spoon,  move,  prove, 
fi. — iirge,  purge,  bfini,  turn,  fur,  bilrr,  cur,  cilrl,  furl. 
u,  66,  o. — put,  pidl,  push,  bush,  piiss,  b("K)k,  t(K>k. 
oi,  oy. — oil,  boil,  toil,  boy,  joy,  cloy,  roil,  coil,  foil, 
ou,  ow. — out,  our,  ounce,  flour,  power,  sour,  owl. 

in.     CONCERT    DRII.L. 

In  concert  drill  on  the  follomng  tabic,  observe  the  fol- 
lowing directions. 

1.  Read  the  columns  vertically. 

2.  Repeat  with  slow  movement;   moderate;  fast. 

3.  Repeat  in  a  forcible  whisper. 

4.  Repeat  with  gentle  force;   moderate;  loud. 


ji-a-!i 

&-&-« 

u-ti-u 

iir-ii-. 

i-i-i 

fl-ii-ti 

a-a-;i 

T-t-^ 

iVil-fi 

i-La 

U-U-ll 

. 

,.^..-0 

oi~oi-ov 

' 

,  1  -( i-<> 

0U-OU-< ' 

30 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


IV.    Vowel  Sounds  in  Unaccented  Syllables. 

There  are  many  delicate  shades  of  sonnd  in  unac- 
cented vowels  which  must  be  learned  from  the  lips  of 
the  living  teacher,  or  by  noticing  carefully  tho  pro- 
nunciation of  educated  and  critical  people. 

I.     Final  unaccented  ur,  cr,  ir    or,  yr. 

The  vowels  «,  e^  t,  o,  ii,  y,  preceding  r  in  final  unac- 
cented syllables,  have  the  sound  of  e  as  in  her. 


bPg'gar 

al'der 

iir'nior 

sill'phur 

eol'iar 

bftn'ner 

ar'dor 

au'gur 

dSl'lar 

Iftd'der 

eol'Dr 

zgph'yr 

li'nr 

pa'per 

6'dor 

raar't>T 

mo'lar 

ta'i>ir 

par'lor 

sa'tyr  - 

po'lar 

iia'dir 

fe'mur 

h6n'or 

StM'lar 

mi' nor 

le'niur  *- 

i'ron(-um) 

vel'lar 

ma'jor 

mfir'mur 

a'pron(-urn) 

IL     Pinal 

-ain  like  -€n. 

etlp'tain 

mfir 

'rain  ^ 

chief  taiji 

eiir'tain 

vll'lain 

chSp'laiu 

(jer'tain 

bar' 

gain 

plftn'tain 

III.     Words  having  a  or  o  unaccented. 

In  words  like  the  following,  a  or  o  in  unaccented  final 
syllables  has  a  slightly  obscured  sound  of  short  u. 


fi'nal 

vi'tal 

phan'tom 

tSn'ant 

fis'eal 

vo'^al 

trau'som 

gai'lop 

le'gal 

ve'nal 

hand' some 

bai'lad 

men'tal 

eSm'mon 

hSni'mock 

sal 'ad 

mor'tal 

€iis'tom 

hiU'ock 

sea 'man 

na'§al 

bl5s'som 

6r'phan 

fire'man 

na'val 

drSg'on 

tru'aut 

brake 'man 

o'val 

ser'mon 

serv'ant 

bai'auce 

SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


31 


I\.        i    III. 11     iiiiuC^riited    a. 

Unaccented  ",  at  the  end  of  a  word,  has  the  sound 
of  intermediate  a,  verging  towards  short  «,  as  c6m'ma 
or  c6m'mfi. 


com'ma  * 

iirge  brA, 

pi*  ftz'za 

va  nfl'la 

e'ra 

a 're  a 

CO  r6'n:\ 

gner  iHa 

^x'tra 

a  re'na 

v6r'te  bra 

fa  ri'nti 

hi'va 

cfi'po  la 

man  tll'liv 

iSju'i  na 

mi'ca 

op'era 

scin  tiria 

mem  o  rfin'da 

so'fa 

i  de'a 

nm  brprhi 

a  nath'o  mil 

V.     Sound  of  a  in  unaccent^^d  final  syllables. 

In  words  like  the  following,  a  has  the  sound  of  short 
e;  as,  -age  =  6j,  and  -ate-rt. 


coiir'age 

mSr'riage 

sav'age 

pSl'ate 

dftm'age 

cjtr'riage 

u§'age 

pi'rate 

drain'age 

mile 'age 

Sg'ate 

frfg'ate 

front'age 

post'age 

cli'mate 

ad  van'tage 

leak'age 

till' age 

pri'vate 

per  gent' age 

VI.     Uiuu'cented  a  as  an  initial  syllable. 

Ill  the  first  syllalde  of  words  like  the  following,  the 
vowel  rt,  when  unaccented,  has  nearly  the  sound  of  short 
a  a  little  obscured,  or  of  a  as  in  ask,  verging  towards 
short  u;  as  &  bout',  S  bove';  or  about',  above.  Avoid 
tlie  common  error  of  giving  a  the  long  sound;  as  above', 
ma  chine' J  also  that  of  short  w,  as  li  bout',  u  bovo'.  In 
the  dictionary  this  sound  is  unmarked. 


a  bove' 

a  gain' 

•1  li1;r' 

€a  det' 

go,  zCtte' 

about' 

a  lilriu' 

1  11  long' 

«a  nftl' 

ma  ghine' 

abuse' 

a  his' 

1  piirt' 

€ar?ss' 

ma  rine' 

a  crfiss' 

a  hve' 

1  rL-je' 

•ea  njird' 

ra  vine' 

adiilt' 

a  lone' 

I  side' 

•ca  not'' 

ca  reen' 

SCHOOL    KLOCUTION. 


vn. 

,    Silent  e  and 

o. 

In  the  follow! no:  v 

rords  and  some 

!  others,  e 

and  0  are 

silent  bef< 

/, 

thus — ^heaven  - 

h6vn,  evil 

=  evl. 

bacon 

,_:  t '  i .  i  i    . 

listen 

open 

season 

biitton 

^^U'(l(  11 

lr*av('Ti 

r)ften 

sMden 

cotton 

glAd(]<  11 

l.-:i.l."n 

person 

spoken 

(•rTm§on 

glisten 

li'ngthen 

piirson 

sloven 

deacon 

given 

liken 

poison 

'vn(')\-cl 

dilnison 

gliitton 

lesson 

reas 

dCvil 

grovd 

lr*ss«-]i 

rCekon 

snivel 

driven 

heathen 

nu'isoii 

raven 

smitten 

even 

hgaven 

miitton 

raisin 

silnken 

evil 

hiirden 

iniiiden 

ridden 

token 

ea§el 

hasten 

moisten 

rotten 

tca§el 

fallen 

happen 

mitten 

ravel 

wea§el 

frozen 

llflZrl 

oven 

s(*ven 

weaken 

frighten 

kitten 

ou§el 

silken 

weapon 

\  III. 


ag'fle 

d5<j'lle 

d^s'tlne 

dfic'tlle 

Sn'glne 

er'mlne 


lori   i  in  unaccented  final  syllables. 

mSs'cn  line 


fa^'Ue 

fer'tlle 

frftg'Ile 

flgx'lle 

hos'tlle 

mo 'bile 


san'gnlne 

silb'tlle 

ster'Ile 

t^x'tlle 

Ai'rile 

ver'sa  tile 


fern 'I  nine 
g^n'u  Ine 
her'o  Ine 
pu'er  lie 
jfi've  nlle 


rx.     Short  i  in  unaccented  initial  syllables. 

dl  vide'  dl  v^sf  dl  gress'  dl  plo'ma 

til  late'  dl  vert'  ml  niite'  dl  ges'tion 

dl  lute'  dl  \'ulge'  gl  raffe'  dl  vis'ion 

direct'  diverge'  ?I  gar'  dlla'tion 

digest'  divorce'  finance'  dl  rec'tion 

dl  van'  dl  \ijie'  tl  rade'  bl  tfi'men 


SCTTrM'T.     F,  T,'  33 

niind  of  short  i  and  y  iu  uuacceuted  syllables. 

lu  words  like  the  follo^ving,  there  is  a  tendency  to 
give  short  e  the  sound  of  obscure  e  or  a,  and  to  pro- 
long final  -ty  into  -i^r.Uy 

ac  ttv'i  ty  gul  li  bll'i  ty  re  spon  si  ])Il'i  ty 

a  gll'i  ty  in  tt4'li  gi  ble  tran  quU'li  ty 

de  bll'i  ty  in  c6r'ri  gi  ble  pos  si  bll'i  ty 

di  vis  i  bll'i  ty  in  vin'ci  ble  u  tll'i  ty 

el  i  gi  bll'i  ty  il  l?g'  i  ble  u  na  nim'i  ty 

fu  §i  bll'i  ty  in  tln'i  ty  in  com  pat  i  bll'i  ty 

XL     Sound  of  u  in  unaccented  final  syllables. 

In  the  pronunciation  of  words  of  two  syllables  ending 
in  -ture,  -dure,  or  -sure,  there  is  a  slight  difference  in 
good  usage.  By  some,  the  word  creature,  for  example, 
is  pronounced  as  if  spelled  thus — ereat'yer,  verging  tow- 
ards crea'eher:  l»y  otlicis  it  is  pronounced  thus — 
creat'yoor. 


crea'ture 

frSc'ture 

na'ture 

rftp'ture 

cul'ture 

fu'ture 

niir'ture 

scrip' ture 

cftp'turt* 

g(5s'ture 

pas' ture 

strtic'ture 

fea'ture 

lec'ture 

pic'ture 

vgn'ture 

ftx'ture 

lei'§ure  - 

pes' ture 

ver'durt* 

viil'ture 

su'ture 

ves'ture 

nip 'ture 

XII      Sdiiiid  <A'  11  ill  iniaccented  final  syllables. 

In  words  of  more  than  two  syllables,  the  sound  of 
-ure  is  made  somewhat  longer  than  in  wonls  of  two 
syllables  J   as  furniture  is  pronounced  filr'nlt  yoor. 

ftp'er  ture  lr»g'is  la  ture  com  po§'ure 

6'vCt  ture  iir'ijhi  tect  ure  ex  p6'§ure 

llg'a  ture  Itt'er  a  ture  dis  pl6a§  ure 

slg'na  ture  t^m'per  a  ture  man  n  fftc'tnre 


34 


(    1  "  I'  I  <  •  N 


XUl.  The  .syllable  ""!'- 

ftp'ti  tudo  Idn'gi  tude  rOc'ti  tude 

ftl'ti  tude  Ifts'si  tude  861' i  tCide 

ftt'ti  tude  mtU'ti  tude  sSr'vi  tude 


xrv.    Long  o  unaccented. 


mo  rOc'co  to  Mc'co  ftg'o  ny 

po  ta'to  pro  por'tion  Op'po  §Ite 

o  pin 'ion  pi  a' no  r^l'"  mh'-tv"* 


XV.    Miscellaneous  Hints. 

1.  The  article  a  is  sounded  in  connection  with  tin 
word  that  follows  it;  as,  "a  book"  is  sounded  as  cue 
word  of  two  syllables,  thus — a-book'.  Here  tiie  article 
has  the  sound  of  long  <i,  obscured  and  cut  off  suddenly. 
It  is  not  good  usage  to  give  it  the  sound  of  short  w, 
thus — li-book',  or  of  ib'-book'. 

2.  Before  a  word  beginning  with  a  consonant  the 
article  the,  except  when  emphatic,  is  sounded  as  a  syllable 
of  the  word  which  it  precedes,  as  the-b(>6k',  pronounced 
as  a  word  of  two  syllables,  accented  on  the  last.  In 
such  cases  the  obscured  e  sound  in  the  is  really  repre- 
sented by  short  t,  rather  than  by  short  u;  as,  thi-book', 
thi-horse',  thl-school'.  It  is  sometimes  indicated  thus — 
th'-book',  th'-horse'. 

3.  Before  words  beginning  with  a  vowel,  as  the-air', 
the-ice',  e  in  the  has  the  long  sound,  less  obscured  and 
shortened  than  when  the  precedes  a  word  beginning  \s'ith 
a  consonant.  The  error  in  sounding  the  articles  a  and 
the  frequently  arises  from  attempts  to  give  their  phonic 
spelling  independent  of  their  connection  with  the  words 
that  foUow  them.  In  order  to  sound  the  articles  cor- 
rectly, notice  how  they  are  pronounced,  by  persons  of 
good  taste,  in  ordinary-  conversation. 


'SCHOOL    i:i,<H  !Ti(tN-.  35 

SECTION  m. 

aoxso  X  A  .V  /     SOUN^DS. 

1.    Articulation. 

1.  {Distinct  articulation  is  essential  to  good  reading 
and  speaking. j  "The  first  step  towards  becoming  a  good 
elo<nitionist/'  says  Comsto<;k,  ''  is  a  correct  articulation. 
A  public  speaker,  possessed  of  only  a  intKlerate  voice, 
if  he  articidates  correctly,  will  bo  better  undei-stood,  and 
heard  with  gi-eater  pleasure,  than  one  who  vociferates 
without  judgment.  The  voice  of  the  latter  may  indeed 
extend  to  a  considerable  divStance,  but  the  sound  is  dis- 
sipated in  confusion.  Of  the  former  voice  not  the 
smallest  vibration  is  wasted;  every  stroke  is  j^erceived 
at  the  utmost  distance  to  which  it  reaxjhes;  and  hence 
it  has  often  the  appearance  of  penetrating  even  farther 
than  one  which  is  loud,  but  badly  articulated." 

2.  "In  just  articulation,"  says  Austin,  "Jhe  words  are 
not  hurried  over,  nor  precipitated  syllable  over  syllable; 
nor,  as  it  were,  melted  together  into  a  mass  of  confusion; 
they  are  neither  abridged,  nor  prolonged;  nor  swallowed, 
nor  forced,  and,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  shot  from 
the  mouth;  they  are  not  trailed  nor  di^awled,  nor  let 
slip  out  carelessly,  so  as  to  drop  uiiiinished.  They  are 
delivered  out  from  the  ^  lips,  as  b'Mutiful  coins  newly 
issued  from  the  mint,  deeply  and  ii-curately  impressed, 
perfectly  finished,  neatly  struck  by  the  proper  organs, 
distinct,  sharp,  in  due  succession,  and  of  due  weight.'' 

3.  The  best  way  of  training  the  organs  of  speech  to 
good  articuhition  is  by  means  of  forcible  phonic  spelling 
and  by  drill-exercises  on  the  elementary  sounds,  partic- 
idarly  on  subvocals  and  aspirates. 

4.  "Articulate  utterance,"  says  Pi-oi.  Ki..-.-,  .i,  i\.ii...v.^ 
a  constant  exercise  of  discrimination  of  the  mind,  and 
of  precUioit  tnenis  of  the  organs 


nr, 

of  spxcn.  A  oorrect  Mrticulaiiou,  iKjwt'Vor,  is  not  be- 
lal>ore<l  or  artificial  in  iU  character.  It  results  from  the 
intuitive  and  habitual  action  of  a  disciplined  attention. 
It  is  easy,  fluent,  and  natural:  but,  like  the  skillful 
execution  of  an  accomplished  musician,  it  gives  foi-th 
every  sound,  even  in  the  most  rapid  passages,  with  imtli 
and  correctness. 

5.  "A  gtKKl  enunciation  gives  <v\  v«»u<l  and 
consonant  its -just  pi*oportion  and  chanicter;  none  being 
omitted,  no  cme  blending  with  another  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  pHHluce  confuf»io!i.  mnl  none  so  <*arelessly  executed 
88  to  cause  mist^i  n '.semblance 
to  another. 

6.  "A  correct  enunciate  iic  fundamentiil  quality 
of  a  distinct  and  impressive  elocution.  It  is  an  attain- 
ment of  grt»at  value,  for  the  ordinary  purjioses  of 
communication;  but  it  Ix^comes  doubly  important,  in  the 
act  of  reading  or  speaking  in  public,  whether  we  advert 
to  the  larger  space  which  must  bo  traversed  by  the 
voice,  or  the  greater  moment  of  the  topics  of  discourse 
which  are  usual  on  such  occasions. 

7.  "The  appropriate  style  of  modem  eloquence  i-  imciL 
of  intellectual,  more  than  of  impassioned,  expression; 
and  enunciation  being,  of  all  the  functions  of  the  voice, 
that  which  is  most  important  to  the  conveyance  of 
thought  and  meaning,  it  justly  requires,  in  the  course 
of  education,  more  attention  and  practice  than  any  other 
branch  of  elocution." 

II.    Classification  of  Elementary  Sounds. 
The  elemontnr\'  sounds  are  classified  as  follows: 

1.  Vocals,  or  tonics. 

2.  Subvocals,  or  subtonics. 
;       3.     Aspirates,  or  atopics. 

FocoZs,! represented  by  vowels,'  are  sounds  consisting 
of  pure  tone  only. 


SCHOOL    ELO(  37 

-rjSu6t'0f«/.s(  represL'ulcd  by  cunsonantsJ  arc  .sounds  that 
have  tonej  but  are  inferior  to  vocals  in  fullness.  A 
consonant  can  not  be  named  without  the  aid  of  a  vowel, 
as  6  is  named  in  the  alphabet,  hr.  Hence  the  term 
consonant,  sounded  with. 

^  Aspiratesl  r^iyniSQuioil  \>\  '-Mi-i-uiiii-.  an-  .sumifi.^  with- 
out tone. 

fjff'fs  ;iir  characters   t  >   njxcsriii    articulate  sounds. 

III.    Diacritical  Marks  op  Consonants. 

[.l.v  ;/ir(  II  in  Webster's  Dictionary^] 


V  soft — (;ede,  <;ent. 

•e  hard — call,  lae. 

ch  M  n  m a rked — cli urch. 

<jh  soft — ^haise,  yhute. 

^'h  hard — ehyle,  €hyuie. , 

g  hard — gum,  log. 

g  soft— gem,  gin. 

§  soft  =  z — ha§,  hi}^. 

s  sharp  -  <■     >  ■•:     -;is. 


th  sharp — thing,  bath, 
th  flat — thine,  smooth, 
ng  unmarked — sing,  ring, 
n — ink,  link. 
x=ks — box,  fox. 
$  =  gz — e$ist,  ejalt. 
ph  =  f — phlox,  sylph. 
qu~kw — queen,  queer, 
wh-hw — wh(Mi,  why. 


J  \  ■ .     1 )  I  a  L 1 .  i  i  KssoNS  ON  Consonant  Sounds. 

I.     SUBVOCAl.s. 

In   concert  drdl-excrciscs  tut    fjtt    foUoiciii'j   (able,  observe 
the  folloicimj  directions: 

'  1.   Pronounce    ( w  h     void     iistinctly,   and   the; 
forcibly,  the  phonic  spelling. 

2.  Repeat,  forcibly,  each  subvocal  and  nspini' 
times,  thus — 6,  h,  b;   d,  d,  d,  eU\ 

3.  After  con r--^    ''■'■^\  •••       -  h   pur...   ..^   ,,u:i.  i,, 

give  the  sound 

b. — ^blb,  babe,  bee,  6bb,  m6b,  r6b,  s6b,  -c6b. 
d. — did,  d6g;,  dfiad,  6dd,  drgad,  died,  said,  bCd. 
g— P^,  gig,  gT5g,  g6t,  girl,  gills,  gig'glo. 


38  ION. 

i-r-joy.  i^str  jftg,  giU,  gem,  gtn,  gln'ger. 
1.— Ifill,  1(M1,  mill,  Ix^'Il,  sale,  boU,  toil,  soQ. 
in. — man.  maim,  miim,  dim,  rtlm,  some. 
11—111111.  noue,  noun,  name,  rtin,  giin. 
r  {roiKjh). — rude,  nilej  room,  rcxKl,  roll,  roar, 
r  {smooth). — or,  ore,  more,  oar,  year,  deer. 
V. — vftlve,  vale,  vine,  live,  6f,  veer,  vote, 
w. — will,  woe,  we,  wine,  wgt,  wind,  wd6d. 
y.— yf^s,  y6t,  you,  yftm,  yarn,  yoke,  yacbt. 
z. — zone,  ()6ze,  lo§e,  noge,  blaze,  craze, 
zb. — jizure,  m§a§ure,  pl8a§ure,  tr6a§ure. 
tb.— tby,  tbine,  tills,  witb,  blitbe,  bathe. 
!ig.— king,  ring,  rftng,  rtlng,  sing,  sftng,  sting, 
n. — I^ik,  link,  think,  wink,  blink. 
X     yz.— I'Xist.  cxjiniplo.  (*xh6rt,  exhaust. 

II.     ASPIRATKS. 

f.— fife.  If,  fill  >.iiff,  6flP,  laugb. 

b. — bow,  bonu*,  liiil,  btid,  here,  b&ir,  bail. 

k,  €,  -eh. — kill,  kick,  eake,  €6me,  €byle,  €byme. 

p.— pipe,  ripe,  pttp,  p6p,  pip,  peep. 

s. — siUK^e,  vease,  <jite,  <,*5ll,  s6nse,  <^nt8. 

t.— too,  d5t,  tnt,  tr6t,  triist,  twit,  wit 

sb,  <jb. — sbilll,  sbftm,  rftsb,  d&sb,  ^baise,  ^bute. 

cb. — cbin,  chop,  ricb,  dlt<?b,  cburcb,  birch. 

tb. — tbin,  thick,  pith,  teeth,  triitb,  youth. 

X -ks. — ^box,  fox,  locks,  vex,  necks,  tax.  lix.  \\;i\. 

V.      MlSCELIx.\NE<jr.S    lIlXTS. 

1.  Do  not  be  over-particular  about  a  beavy  articula- 
tion of  tbe  d  in  and.  The  d  should  be  sounded,  but 
not  so  painfully  empbasized  as  to  become  an  elocu- 
tionary' affectation. 

2.  Th  is  vocal,  as  in  tbine,  in  tbe  following  plurals: 
bath§,  laths,  patbs,  motb§,  clotii§,  oath§,  mouths,  swath.s, 
wreath§,  bootb§;   and  iu  blithe,  lithe,  with,  and  beneatb. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


39 


SECTION  IV. 
CLASSIFICATION  OF  ELEMENTARY  SOUNDS. 

I.    Table  of  Elementary  Soi-ts-ds. 


I.      VOCALS. 

a 

a-uc 

ii-a-inc 

'•  > 

Ml, 

h-j^-rau 

ii 

a-lni§, 

ii-rt 

() 

6-ld, 

n-o 

a 

a-11. 

1-aw 

u 

5-u, 

6-dd 

Ti-t, 

S-n 

o,  oo 

rn-o-ve, 

m-oo-n 

a 

a-ir, 

a-k-re 

ii 

u-se, 

d-iie 

a 

a-sk. 

€l-a-S8 

fi 

ii-p, 

s-il-n 

m-e 

ft 

<i-rge, 

b-ft-ni 

'• 

c-ud, 

«-gg 

U,    (X) 

f-u-11, 

w-of)-l 

•:• 

h-e-r, 

6-rr 

oi,  oy 

oi-1, 

b-oy 

i^  y 

i-ce, 

m-y 

ou,  ow 

ou-t, 

ow-1 

II.    si;bvo<  ALs. 


r-oii-r,  re-a-r 

tii-ine,  wl-th 

\-;il-vt',  wa-ve 

W-lil,  \V-{?11 

y-^s,  y-tM 

z-6ne,  z-tntj 

il-z/ure.  sei'z-uro 


ill.       AS 

•IKATKS. 

f 

f-i-fe. 

ft-ff                 ' 

t 

1-rIl-t, 

t-jir-t 

h 

h-ftt, 

ll-lU 

rii 

rh  iir-.-l 

1.  ch-ain 

' 

k-Ill, 

b()6-k 

sli 

sli-ip. 

wl-sh 

p-i-pe, 

p-ut 

til 

thI-<-k, 

path 

s 

s-fU, 

8-eil-80 

wli 

wh-t»n, 

wh-ere 

40 


SCHOOL    EL< 


II         \'OCAL8    AND    EqUIVA 

[Arranffed  accor 
trffaufi  of  speech.] 


I.     LONG. 

f 

e-ve,      m-i' 

a 

a 

a-le,       a-tr* 

;i 
u 

a 

a  11. 

6 

<) 

Ill*',-     , ,    * 

II.    SHORT. 

i   !-Ti. 

t-f 

.-n.l. 

a-n 

a-sk, 

j)-»i-ss 

ii-l>, 

b-u-d 

5.n, 

d-6-^ 

p-n-ll. 

|)-nt 

( oMrorxns  wn  i>rriiTiioxGs.-i.oN<i. 


(.HI     a  -  (M).  — <)u-t,   t  h  <  Ml 
oi  -  a  +  O.     "1-1,   i. 


Ill         >rHVut'AL8    AND    ASPIKATES. 

'I  to  the  natural  order  of  their  formation  by  the 


I.       (   iM.N   \  I 


SUBVOCALS.                     j 

ASPIRATK> 

b 

l)-T-b. 

]>-a-lv^       ' 

V 

p-i-i>e, 

p-o-]. 

\v 

v,-ill. 

\\--l     M     1 

uh 

wh-fn. 

wb-y 

\ 

\-:i-]v.- 

f 

f-i-tV. 

f-.-(.-tr 

til 

;h   . 

th 

th-ick. 

]llo-tll 

z 

.  /.c 

s 

s-av. 

...... 

(1 

(l-l-.l. 

1  iva-d 

t 

t-?ii-i. 

.i"> 

J-"' 

-■] 

ell 

cli-iir-ch, 

ch-iiuc 

zli 

a-z 

sli 

sli-all. 

sb-ow 

\' 

v-r'>. 

-l 

li 

h-ow. 

b-6iiie 

K 

o-ag. 

^-H 

k 

€-arke, 

€-o-ke 

SCHOOL    ELO 


41 


U.    8VBTONICS   WITHOUT   COGNATES. 


in. — iii-ai-m,  fi-m. 
u. — u-ii-n,  n-i-iie. 
l._l.ii.U,  oi-1. 


r  {rough). — rule  mom 
r  {smooth). — o-re,  ino-re. 
ng. — sl-ntr,  rl-ng. 


!\      Table  op  Consonant  Sounds. 

[(  u,.-<.^,itrti  aciui'ding  to  their  formation  by  the  organs  of  speech.} 

In  order  to  secure  con*ect  and  forcible  articuLition,  it 
may  be. desirable  to  call  the  attention  of  pupils  to  the 
position  of  the  organs  of  speech  in  making  the  conso- 
nant sounds.  Teachers  can  do  this  without  any  detailed 
instructions  in  print. 


Lip  Sounds. 
[Labials.] 

h 

III 

l.-a-be, 
m-ai-m, 

wh-y, 

p-i-pe 

Wll-l*Il 

1        Lips  and  Tcctli. 

'            f  I.:ibi.)-Deulals.J 

f 

f-i-lV, 
v-ine, 

f-eo-ff 
e-ve 

Tongue  and  Teeth. 
[Linguo-Dentals.] 

.1 

th 

j 
s 
z 

t 

th 

sh 
zh 

d-i-d, 
th-is, 

s-un, 
z-one. 

t-en-t 

th-ink 

ch-ur-ch 

sh-un 

a-z'ure 

Tongue  and  Palate. 

[Lincrno-Pnlatnls.] 
'         Nasal   Passa«j:rs. 

jr 

1 

\' 

g-ood, 
l-u-U, 

y-et, 

Il-n-ii.-. 

si-ng, 

boo-k 
r-oa-r 
y-es 

!l-l-!lr 

ri-ng 

11 
ng 

Glottis. 

h 

h^it, 

h-ow          j 

1-*  SCHOOL  ION 

\ .    PuuMc  Drill. — Subvocals  and  Aspirates. 

b. — babe,  bribe,  rib,  bid,  robe,  bird,  "etirb. 
<♦,  8. — vent,  8ln<;e,  on(,*e,  i<?e,  face,  race,  sSuse. 
eh.— chtirch,  birch,  Itlnrh.  cheese,  chime, 
d. — did,  d6ad,  rid'  l^ath,  thread,  dried, 

t  gh.— fine,  6flf,  fUe,  fear,  d6af,  foot,  langli. 
^'—^y  ^«i  S^^^y  ^^y  ^y  g^^r   gti"ge. 

h. — home,  how,  who,  h&ir,  hate,  hill,  hl.;^.' 
J,  g— joy,  3<i8t,  jet,  age,  page,  g6m,  gill, 
k,  e. — kill,  kite,  ld6k,  eame,  eould,  eake,  erowd. 
eh. — aehe,  ehArd,  eh\Tne,  chyle,  choir,  ^hoiois. 
L— l<mk,  IflU,  ball,  boil,  Ifid,  wfll,  tall,  pale, 
ni. — make,  room,  main,  moon,  nttmb,  maim, 
n. — no&n,  neat,  t6n,  nine,  nftn  <»ne. 

ng. — sing,  ring,  thing,  b&nk,  ruuk,  th&nk. 
p. — pipe,  cfip,  «ape,  hope,  ripe,  drfip,  paid, 
r. — roar,  rear,  fire,  floor,  door,  store,  more. 
s,  <j. — sauije,  8ln<je,  saw,  i^e.  Intense,  sounje. 
sh,  9I1. — shine,  shftll,  (^liai§e,  wish,  bush,  ma<?hine. 
t,— t^nt,  d5t,  t^,  write,  time,  tr6t,  thrt^at. 
th.— thick,  dgath,  thin,  length,  width,  throat, 
th.— this,  the§e,  th6§e,  tii6n,  diftt,  with,  their. 
V. — \-ine,  eve,  vote,  move,  veer,  nerve,  v6st. 
\\ . — wind,  w6t,  woe,  wait,  wear,  wi§e,  wd6d. 
\vh. — wh?n,  where,  why,  what,  wheat,  wheel. 
x  =  ks. — 6x,  box,  I6cks,  fix,  t^  13cks,  vex,  f6x, 
x  =  gz. — ejSct,  e^fet,  ex&mple,  exhaust,  e$ert. 
y. — y6s,  ygt,  y611,  year,  yomig,  youth,  truth. 
z. — zone,  buzz,  breeze,  ooze,  lo§e,  Is,  zinc, 
zh. — Szure,  pleasure,  m^piir^.  +i-^^asiire. 


iClUX"       .    :   .M    I     II. »v.  43 

VI.      AltTiri  LATION     i)HlLL, 

First,  prououuce  each  word  very  distiiictly  and  fqmbly; 
then  give  the  phonic  speUing,  and  re-pronounce  the  word, 
rb. — orl),  her)),  verb,  -eurb,  barb,  giirb. 
rd. — hard,  lard,  bard,  -eard,  board,  hoard. 
!k. — ark,  bark,  park,  hark,  mark,  lark, 
spr. — spring,  sprfing,  sprting,  spray,  sprite, 
rt. — art,  heart,  piii-t,  ciii-t,  diirt,  stiirt. 
str. — string,  strung,  straight,  strength,  stray, 
sts. — masts,  fasts,  fists,  nests,  vests,  pests, 
sks. — asks,  tasks,  ba^ka,  casks,  masks, 
skt. — asked,  tasked,  basked,  masked,  rasped, 
sps. — gasps,  clasps,  rasps,  hasps,  gi'aisps. 
spt. — gasped,  clasped,  rasped,  hasped,  gi-asped. 
til. — this,  tiiftt,  the§e,  tiiose,  with,  bathe, 
til.— three,  throat,  thrill,  thick,  thiu,  bath, 
wh. — when,  where,  why,  what,  which,  wheat. 
(In. — ^laden,  burden,  harden,  sadden,  gladden, 
ku. — hearken,  liken,  weaken,  spoken,  broken, 
pn. — open,  weapon,  hfippen,  ripen,  deepen, 
vn. — given,  s6ven,  oven,  h6aven,  iCaven,  even, 
sn. — glisten,  hasten,  fasten,  lesson,  mason. 

VII.     AiCiu  t  i..wio:s   Drill. 

1.  Round  the  rough  rock  the  ragged  rascal  ran. 

2.  Slices  and  socks  shock  Susan.     (Repeat.) 

3.  The  scene  was  truly  rural.     (Repeat.) 

4.  She  uttered  a  sharp,  shi'ill  shriek.     (Re|)eat.) 

5.  The  difficulties  were  formidable,  inexplicable,  and 
irremediable. 

6.    Amidst  liie  mists  luid  coldest  frosts, 
With  stoutest  wrists  and  loudest  >x)asts, 
He  thrusts  his  fists  against  the  posts, 
And  still  in^l-«<  h"  <•••><  tiw  "-liosts. 


44 

7.  Shrewd  Simoi  seventeen  8um- 
luers*  speeding  stonus,  succeediug  sunshine,  successively 
saw  Simon's  small,  shabby  shop  standing  staunch,  saw 
Simon's  self-siime  sign  still  swinging,  silently  specifying : 
**  Simon  Short,  Smithfleld's  sole  surviving  ^oemaker. 
Shoes  served,  soled  sm  "  '  '  "-"  en's  spry,  sedulous 
spouse,  Sally  Short,  s-  lied  sheets,  stuffed 
sofas.  Simon  iiaxJy  sons — Seth,  Samuel, 
Stephen,  Saul,  ^>iuniracii,  ^jiias — ^sold  sundries.  Sober 
Seth  sold  sugar,  starc-li,  spices;  sinii)!*'  Sam  sold  saddles, 
stirrups,  screws;    sagacious   Stepl 

shawls;  skeptical  Saul  sold  silv.r  _\  :  ,  ^avcr  spoou:>; 
selfish  Shadrach  sold  shoe-strinLrs,  .st.;ij.^.  saws,  skates; 
slack  Sihis  sold  Sally  Short's  stuffed  s*;:- 

8.  Theophilus  Thistle,  the  successful  thistle-sifter,  in 
sifting  a  sieve  full  of  unsifted  thistles,  thrust  three 
thousand  thistles  through  the  thick  of  his  thumb;  now, 
if  Theophilus  Thistle,  the  successful  thistle-sifter,  in 
sifting  a  sieve  full  of  unsifted  thistles,  thrust  three 
thousand  thistles  through  the  thick  of  his  thumb,  see 
that  thou,  in  sifting  a  sieve  full  of  unsifted  thistles, 
thrust  not  three  thousand  thistles  through  the  thick  of 
thy  thumb.     Success  to  the  successful  thistJe-sifter. 

9.  Of  /  all  the  saws  I  ever  s^w  saw,  I  never 

i\^"as  this  sa\r*saws. 


[listJe-sifter.      / 
I  never  saw  a 


iu.    Peter  Piper  picked  a  peck  of  pickled  peppers;   a 
peck  of  pickled  peppers  Peter  Piper  picked.     If  Peter 
Piper  picked   a  peck   of   pickled   peppers,   wher< 
peck  of  pickled  peppers  Peter  Piper  picked! 

11.   When  a  twister  twisting,  would  twist  hiui  a  twist, 
For  twisting  a  twist  three  times  he  will  twist; 
But  if  one  of  the  twists  untwist  fi*om  the  twist, 
The  twist  untwi^t^iKT   m.tix-wtvc  tli<-  f^-ist. 


SCHOOL     ELOCUTION.  46 

SECTION  V. 
SrTHO  EP  \  . 

Good  UsA(iK.  The  standard  of  correct  pronnnciatiou 
is  (jooil  usage.  Good  usage  implies  the  pronunciation  of 
the  educated  and  intellectual  classes  of  society.  The 
standard  of  good  usage  is  found  in  the  dictionaries  of 
ji  langiiage.  In  the  United  Stat^^s,  the  standard  dic- 
tionaries are  Webstci^'s  and  Worcester's!  yK-^^  ^^V? 

The  standard  of  pronunciation  is  never  absolutely  un- 
deviating.  Custom,  from  time  to  time,  changes  the  pro- 
nunciation of  words;  but  the  number  of  these  changes 
is  not  large.  Whenever  general  good  usage  changes  the 
l>ronunciation  or  the  speUing  of  a  word,  this  change 
soon  finds  its  way  into  a  new  edition  of  the  dictionarj'. 
The  dictionary,  then,  remains  the  st^mdard  of  good  usage. 

There  are  a  few  Inindi'ed  words  in  our  language  that 
have  two  authorized  pronunciations,  either  of  which  is 
allowable. 

Affectations.  All  affectations  in  pronunciation  should 
be  carefidly  avoided.  The  affectation  of  ei'ther  and 
nei'ther,  for  either  and  neither,  is  a  case  in  point. 
Avoid  in'quir}'  for  in  quir'y  There  is  no  bett^^r  test 
of  culture,  scholarship,    nitl    icfinement.   tli  rrect 

pronunciation. 

On  this  point,  Prof.  William  Russell  says:  "Individual 
opinion,  when  it  is  at  vari.ance  with  this  imj>ortant  and 
useful  principle  of  accommodation,  gives  rist^  to  eccen- 
tricities, which  neither  the  authority  of  profound  learn- 
ing, nor  that  of  strict  accuracy  and  system,  can  nnlrpni 
from  the  charge  of  pedantry. 

"It  is  a  matter  of  great  importance  to  recognize  the 
rule  of  authorized  custom,  and  neither  j-ield  to  the  in- 
tluence  of  those*  errors  which,  through  inadvertency,  will 
creep  into  occasional  or  local  use  n   the  othrr 


46  s.  ..„,        .      N. 

hand,  be  inductd  lu  loilow  innovations  or  changes  adopted 
without  sufficient  sanction.  A  cultivated  taste  is  always 
perceptiWe  in  pronunciation,  as  in  <  \.  ly  other  expression 
of  mind;  and  errors  in  pronouncing  are  unavoidably 
asso<'iated  witli  n  deficiency  in  the  rudini(»nts  of  a  pood 
education." 

Provincialisms.  1*i..\  in'  i  il!^:ii>.  or  the  jXM-uliar  pn)- 
nunciation  prevailing  in  triiain  localities  or  sections  of 
our  country,  must  be  studiously  corrected  and  avoided. 
It  is  to  this  class  of  errors  that  teachers  must  carefully 
direct  their  attention.  The  force  of  habit  is  so  strong 
that  pupils  continue  to  mispronounce  words  long  after 
they  know  the  pronunciation  to  be  incon^ect. 

Provincialisms  most  commonly  consist  of  some  varia- 
tion of  perversion  of  vowel  sounds:  as  hftlf  for  half, 
cAlf  for  calf,  l&ugh  for  laugh,  etc.;  of  tew  for  to,  trew 
for  tnie,  dew  for  do,  yew  for  you;  of  grftss  for  grass, 
&sk  for  ask,  Iftst  for  last,  etc.;  of  dawg  or  dorg  for  d6g; 
of  git  for  get,  giit  for  g6t,  etc.;  of  toon  for  tune,  noo 
for  new,  diKity  for  dut}%  etc.;  of  6p  for  fip.  ?>nder  for 
ilnder;  of  skewl  for  school,  rewl  for  rule 

Another  class  of  these  errors  consists  m  im>placing 
the  accent  of  words;  as,  i'de  a  for  i  de'a,  M'ult  for 
a  dillt',  re'cess  for  re  c6ss',  eon  v6x'  for  c5n'vex, 
ex  t&nt'  for  ^x'tant,  in  ter  gst'ing  for  In'ter  est  ing, 
U'lus  trate  for  il  Ifts'trate,  ro'bust  for  ro  biist',  ti'rade 
for  tl  rade',  ve  he'ment  for  ve'h( 

In  this  connection,  the  folloA^ng  lines  from  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes  convey  a  valuable  lesson: 

1.  A  few  brief  stanzas  may  be  well  employed 
To  speak  of  eiTors  we  can  all  avoid. 
Learning  condemns  beyond  the  reach  of  hope 
The  careless  chui*l  that  speaks  of  soap  for  soap: 
Her  edict  exiles  from  her  fair  abode 
The  clownish  voice  that  utters  r5ad  for  road, 


sriTooT.   nT.orT-TTOx.  47 

Less  stem  to  liiiu  who  culls  his  coat  a  c6at, 
And  steers  his  boat  believing  it  a  b5at, 
She  pardoned  one,  our  classic  city's  boast, 
Who  said,  at  Cambridge,  nidst  instead  of  most; 
But  knit  her  brows,  and  stamped  her  angry  foot, 
To  hear  a  tcadier  call  a.  root  a  r(5t)t. 

Once  more:   speak  clearly,  if  you  speak  at  all; 

Carve  every  word  before  you  let  it  fall; 

Don't,  like  a  lecturer  or  dramatic  star. 

Try  over  hard  to  roll  the  British  r; 

Do  put  your  accents  in  the  proper  spot; 

Do  n't— let  me  beg  you— do  n't  stiy  ''How  ?"  for  "  What  r 

And,  when  you  stick  on  conversation's  bun-s, 

Don't  strew  the  pathway  with  those  dreadful  urs. 


I.    Words  Often  Mispronounced. 

[7?y  misplacing  the  accent.'] 

The  only  variations  from  "Webster's  Dictionaiy,"  in 
tlie  following  lists,  include  a  few  words  in  relation  to 
which  lit  may  be  saidUhat  good  usage  lis  in  advance  of 
the  dictionary. 

First,  rcquin-  |MiiMi>  lu  |»i»Mi.MiiHH-  the  iuUowing  words 
in  concert;  then  require  each  pupil,  singly,  in  turn,  to 
pronounce  five  or  more  words. 

ab  do'men  al  ly' _^  canine' 

a€  €li'mat  ed  a're  a  ca  bAl'  __ 

ar'mis  tl<,*e  au  re'o  la  «ay  6nne' 

iir'bl  ter  an  tip'o  de§  «on  tour' 

n))'jcct  al  bii'men  «6n'vex 

ad 'verse  ba  salt'  _  c6r'net 

ad  dress'  bur  li'sque'  «5n'8true 

a  dCpt'  bl  tii'men  «6n'tents 

adiiit'  bfin'zlne  €6m'plex 


4R 


SCHOOL    ELOrUTIOK 


•eon  11  (laiit 
€ora'bat  ant 
•c6m'pro  mi§e_ 
ettm'mun  ifit 
«6n'tro  vert 
edm'par  a  ble 
•eon'ver  sant 
€5irtu  me  ly 
com'plai  §i\nce 
^n  trlb'ut^ 
«og  no 'men 
€6n  fts'eate 
«6n  do'lence 
chSs'tT§e  ment 
<*\v  il  I  za'tion 
<;hlv'al  lie 
€om  man  d&nt' 
€om  p^n'sate 
eon  (j^n'trate 
«oy  6't4? 
d6f  I  ?it 
dCv'as  tate 
dol'or  oils 
dyn'am  ite 
de  mSn'strate 
de  co'roiis 
d(^p  ri  va'tion 
de§'ul  to  ry,, 
dl  plo'nia  (?y 
dis  course' 
dis  card' 
ex'tant 
di'vei-se 
ex 'or  ^•i§e 
Sd'v61  ope  («.) 
ex 'qui  §Tte 


('$'eiii  plu  ry 
ex  po'nent 
ex  pfir'gate 
ex  ploit' 
fl  n&nce' 
fr6n'tier 
for' mid  a  ble 
fWig'meut  a  i  > 
jffftn'ary 
g5n'do  la 
glft4;'i  er 
giiiir'di  an  ^ 
irrl  mai»e' 
izla  di'o  Ins 
hftr'ass 
ho  ri'zon 
hy'gl  ene 
hy  m?  ne'al 
i  de'a 
il  Ills' trate 
il  Ills' trat  ed 
in  qiiir'y  ^ 
In 'grate 
In'ter  stice 
Iii'ter  est  ing 
In'ter  est  ed 
Ira 'pi  ous  _ 
in  cGm'par  a  ble 
in  dis'pu  ta  ble 
in  ex'pll  ca  ble 
ir  rep'ar  a  ble 
ir  ref  ra  ga  ble_ 
ir  rev'o  ca  ble 
ISm'en  ta  ble 
Igg'is  la  ture 
Igg'is  la  tive 


ly  (je'um 

leth  ar'gic 

lith  og'ra  pher 

mon  soon' 

mus  taehe'_ 

mag  a  zine' 

mis  cOn'strue 

mil  §e'um 

m6t*al  lur  gy 

me'di  o  ere  -^ 

6b'll  ga  to  ry 

6r'tbo  e  py 

6b 'se  qule§ 

5b 'so  lete 

dn'er  ous  ^ 

6r'nate 

6 'vert 

oc  ctilt' 

op  po'nent 

6'a  sis 

pro  lix' 

pre  t^xt' 

pre  t^nse' 

pur  loin' 

plfte'ard 

pre  (jed'ence 
Kpr^'e  dent  (h.) 
Hpre  (jed'ent  (adj.) 

prom  e  nade' 

Y>f  rSm'i  dal_ 

qui 'nine 

(jiian'da  ry 

re  Qess' 

re  flex' 

re  course' 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  49 

i*e  source'  re  trtb'u  tive  tl  rade'  — 

re  cluse'  strat'Sg  ic  te  I6g  ra  phy 

re  search'  sa  i  <ji'dal  to  p^g'ra  phy 

ro  bilst'  sys  t6m'ic  ve'he  ment 

ro  niance^  .       sub  sid'ence  va  g&ry 

rou  tine'  sys'to  le  vii'ri  o  loid   _ 

rr^e'op:  nizo  so  no'roxis  va'ri  e  gat  ed 


II.    Drill  ox  Accent. 

I   shall  absent'  myself  to-day  and  shall  be  ab'sent  to 

morrow. 
Accent'  tho  word  with  the  proper  ac'cent. 
Affix'  an  aff'ix  properly. 
I  shall  comment'  on  your  com'ment. 
We  confine'  the  animal  and  erect  his  con'fines. 
\Vc  conjure'  liim  not  to  con'jure. 
He  consorts'  with  his  con 'sort. 
I  contest'  and  so  enter  the  con'test. 
We  contract'  and  make  a  con'tract. 
We  contrast'  and  produce  the  con'trast. 
We  convert'  and  gain  con 'verts. 
We  convict'  and  confine  con'victs. 
We  desei-t'  into  the  des'ert  without  our  dessert". 
We  entrance'  liim  at  the  en'trance. 
We  escort'  with  an  es'cort. 
I  essay'  to  produce  an  es'say. 
We  export'  our  ex 'ports. 
We  extract'  an  ex'tract. 

We  frequent'  the  hall  and  make  fre'quent  calls. 
They  misconduct'  and  arc  punislied  for  miseonMnct 
We  object'  to  your  ob'ject. 
Prefix'   the  pre'fix. 

We  prelude'  with  the  proper  prel'iide. 
We  premise'  and  give  the  base  of  the  prem'ise. 
I  present'  the  letter  and  make  a  pres'ent. 


50 


srno 


The  trans'ports  wiii  u-.-mspon    mr  U"  ; - 
We  progress'  and  make  rapid  ])ro«r'r.-. 
We  protest'  and  file  our  pro'ttst. 
We  record'  our  names  in  the  rec'ord. 
We  refuse'  to  accept  such  refuse. 
We  reprint'  and  produce  a  re'print. 
We  subject'  him  and  make  him  a  sub 'j oof. 
We  survey'  and  make  a  sur'vey. 


Ill 

.     MONOSYTJ.ABLES 

Often  Mispronounced 

Hif  giving  <' 

>nnd  incorrectly. 

ant 

chaff 

gft-^ 

iiion* 

rule 

talk 

aunt 

chant 

m 

iiKnirn 

ni§e 

true 

aft 

rhair 

haunt 

none 

rinse 

to 

are 

cAtch 

haunch 

nude 

rwt 

toast 

ask 

diiunt 

heiirth 

ore 

siilve 

tour 

b&de 

draught 

half 

oar 

staunch 

tiibe 

balm 

draft 

halves 

parse 

sauee 

tart 

bath 

dance 

hasp 

path 

sine- 

tune 

bask 

does 

home 

])alm 

source 

toad 

brass 

deaf 

jaunt 

pass 

scar<*e 

two 

basque 

6gg 

jowl 

past 

shatr 

viiuiit 

blast 

ere 

joist 

pant 

staff 

vast 

bomb 

e'er 

keg 

prance 

slant 

want 

been 

fast 

laugh 

pork 

shoe 

walk 

]x)ne 

flask 

launch 

porch 

slri'th 

wan 

borne 

flaunt 

last 

pour 

smoke 

w^ 

bourn 

giiunt 

Ian  CO 

priine 

spoke 

wand 

•cask 

gape 

lore 

psiilni 

stone 

were 

cast 

gasp 

law 

raft 

soon 

wound 

calf 

grasp 

lieu 

rasp 

spoon 

won't 

class 

glance 

mass 

r(X)f 

taunt 

wont 

chance 

gi-ant 

mast 

route 

task 

ygt 

craft 

grass 

maul 

rude 

trance 

yes 

clasp 

glass 

maslx- 

rood 

truth 

zouaves 

s  n  I 


51 


TV.     Woki>>  Uj  ii..\  Ai> 
I'll  giving  a  vtnrel  tsound 

tif' ter  dl  v6rge' 

&r'id  dl  v6st' 

&n '  s  wer  di '  vei*se 

alas  divorce' 

a  mass  dl  r6ct' 

a  vast  (l!  Ifite' 

ad  vance  dl  g6st' 

a  slant  dl  vtUge' 

a  gainst  dls'trict 

ap  par'ent  diic'tlle 

ap  pa  ra'tus  dt  r^ct'ion 

ad  van'tagt'  dl  g^st'ion 

bas'ket  dl  ver'sion 

bftr'rel  dSm'i  (jlle 

bCn'net  djhi'a  mite 

bora 'bast.  gn'glne 

bay'ou  gp'oeh 

•ea'ret  ei'ther 

eir'rot  .  e'dict 

en  gross' 

ex  tor 

en  chant 


«*r'at^  -^^[ji^ 
€ask'et         ^ 


«tlr  ry 


eOf  fee 

e'go  tism 

eGl'umn 

fan '(jet 

char'y 

fast 'en 

chast'en 

fu'tlle 

eay  6nne' 

ftll'some 

eom'mand' 

fgt'id 

com  mand'ment 

fe'brile 

V^n'o  sure 

forg'er. 
fi'brlne    '• 

dauut'less 

dra'nia 

fOre'head 

du'ty 

ftlr'row 

d6c}'IIe 

for  bfide' 

^i'K(  ENOUNCED 
incorrectly. 

far  ml  nah' 

fl  na'le 

g6n'u  Ine 

gla'mour 

gftn'der 

gaunt'let 

grftn'ary 

gua'va 

gua'no 

hSs'tlle 

hov'er 

hiir'ry 

hSnd'some 

haunt' ed 

hgin'ous 

hgr'o  Ine 

i'dyl 

I  tai'ics 

Is'o  late 

im  pla'ca  blc 

i  SQ  ther'mal 

jaun'dice 

jOc'und 

jo  eose' 

ju'v6n  He 

ju'gu  lar 

kettle 

lla'ma 

liiun'dry 

lilac 

li'en 

lei'§ure 

l6ath'or 

lftr'vn\ 


52 


SCHOOL   ELOCUTION. 


lHu»:li'tor 

pftr'ent 

rn'by 

la'va 

pal'frey 

ru'mor 

le'ver 

prai'rie 

rgp'tlle 

li'chen 

pas' tor 

ni'in 

live 'long 

pas'ture 

r&'tion  a] 

ma'tron 

pas'time 

rail'le  ry 

mftr'ry 

pla'za 

m'ti  o 

may 'or 

plftt'ter 

rf*t'ro  spect 

m5n'a<l 

plas'ter 

ra'dix 

met'rio 

pu'pil 

rath'er 

in6a$'are 

por'ter 

ru'ral 

mas'ter 

jwr'tion 

rSp'Ine 

mas'tiff 

por'txait 

saun'ter 

m&t'ter 

prO^'ess 

sau'cer 

mo 'bile 

pr6d'uct 

stal'wart 

m&r'i  time 

prOd'uce  (n) 

siip'plo 

mfts'cu'Hne 

phdn'ic 

sfi'et 

mu  §e'um 

prgl'ate, 

suftv'i  ty 

mail  so  le'um 

preface 

squlr'rel 

mdr'can  tfle 

pru'deot 

slftn'der 

na'ked 

pa'tri  ot 

sjhi'od 

nei'ther 

pa  tri  6t'ic 

sjr'iip 

n&r'row 

pa'tri  ot  ism 

se'iiiL' 

noth'ing 

pr^g'en  ta  tion 

sth*'rup 

o'ral 

pi  a'no 

squal'or 

on'ly 

pi  a'nist' 

tru'ant 

On'er  ous 

^r/r '  pu'is  sance 

tgii'et 

o  bgs'i  ty 

path 'way 

ti'ny 

o'ro  tund 

pa'tri  ar^h 

tu'tor 

ob  lique' 

pftt'ron  ize 

tri'o 

pa'tron 

pM'agogy 

to  ma' to 

p&t'r5n  age 

plfit'i  num 

tu'ber  ose 

pass 'a  ble 

plga§'ure 

tap 'est  r\^ 

pfts'sage 

pleth'o  ric 

trib'une 

pass 'port 

por  tray' 

tas'sel 

pSs'sive 

ra'tion 

was' sail 

/ 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION 


53 


V.      PRONUNCU.TION    AND    SPELLING. 

Some  of  the  following  words  from  the  French  are 
fully  Anglicized;  others,  partly  so;  while  some  retain 
the  French  pronunciation. 

gi'I  miice'  cogn'ac  (€6n'yac) 

gui  pure'  _  .  de'pot  (de'po) 

\mo  rale' i^'^.T^  Tmem'oir  (mgm'wor) 


eou  pon 
fra'cas 
pr?§'tlge 
pur' lieu 
truffle 
bla  §e' 
de§  §ert' 
de  tour' 
e  meutr     ^ 
fa  QJidi' 
fl  nesse'^/^,. 
fu'si  Hfr     ,^ 


■aCi 


)u  tre^;,^?^^  A  /    e6r'tege  (€6r'tiizh) 
;:s-ii\jo«'        *^  bou  quet'  (boo  ka') 
me  lee'  (raa  la') 
Vme  lange'  (ma  lOngz'j 
/  quad  rille'  («a  drll') 
.  .re^^ine'  (ra  zheem') 
/;  <'.>-^gn  ette'  (vin  y6t') 
b&d'i  nage  (bSd'I  niizh) 
trous  seau'  am  a  teur'  (am  a  toor') 


ou 

pe"lisse 
ph5^  sique' 
rou  tine' 
rou  I6tte' 

"^souve  nir' 
rou  e' 

.  .  ta  bleau' 


^ 


\  1      Proper  Names 
Agastiiz  (ag'rt  se) 
Arab  (ftr'ab) 
Ar}'an  (a'ry  an) 
Asia  (a' she  a) 
Avon  (a' von) 
Beatrice  (be 'a  trtce) 
Berlin  (b^r'lin 
Bingen  (bing'en) 
Calliope  (cal  li'o  pe) 
Caucasian  (^tivv  €a'shun) 
Gharon  (^ha'ron) 
Cheops  (€he'o])s) 
('(mcord  (i»6ng'€urd) 
Daniel  (dSn'yel) 
El  Dorado  (el  do  rii'do) 
European  (eu  ro  pe'an) 
Faneml  Hall  (f&n'el) 


Often  Mispronounced. 
^'^roude  (frood) 
Goethe  (giir'  t6) 
Gfatiano  (grii  she  ii'no) 
Guyot  (ge'o) 
Guise  (gwezj 

/  Heine  (hi'ne)- ^^.y*^ 
'  Remans  (hSm'ans)  iOv^ 
Iowa  (i'o  wa) 
Ixion  (ixi'on) 
Khedive  (ka  dev 
Lewes  (lew 'is) 
Milan  (mH'an) 
Oberon  (5b'e  ron) 
Orion  (o  ri'on)V^  v^, 
^Orpheus  (fir'fusy^ 
Portia  (por'shi  a 
Persia  (pCr'shl  4) 


'A 


VII.       WoiilJS    OF 


Divide  into  syllables^  and  w' 

Abominably  inWolably 

^    ass2^ination  iusunerable 

* w  .ijj^thropopha^n  J^'  indissolubly 

differentiation  infinitesimal 


DlFFICL'LT    ir^UNCIATION. 

"     accented  syllahhs. 
peculiarly 


di^otvledonnus 


1' 
iiiil)nu*ticable 


indefatigabl- 

im*me<liable 

lugubrious  ^^^>^^- 

meteorological 

monocotylcnlonoub 

numismatics 

particularly 


peculiarity 
per])endi(*ularly 
ratiocinaticm 
4^  tergiversation 
uniiiU'llifribU' 
MiK'ont'orniabilitv 
uninhabitable 
<jidiosi)itnble 
valetudinnriMn  '< 
viviparous 


\1II.    Miscellaneous  Words. 


ex  cur'sion  (ox  <*ur'sliun) 
hOm'age  \h  sounded) 
hiim'ble  (h  sounded) 
hSn'or  (/i  silent) 
hSn'est  (/i  sUent) 
kfi'mor  (/*  silent) 
aVniond  (/  silent) 
ofVeu  (Of  n) 
s6f' ten  (sof  n) 
thls'tle  (this'sle) 
whis'tle  (whls'sle) 
Q^r'tain  (oer't^n) 
chas'ten  (chas'n) 
lithe  {ih  vocal) 
blithe  (<A  vcical) 


bath§  [th  vocal] 
oaths  (th  vocal] 
parquet'  (par 
pret'ty  (prlt'ty] 
quay  (ke) 
spau'iel  (spSn'yl 
sub'tile  (siib'tlie)' 
sub'tle  (stit'tle) 
tor'toise  (tdr'tis) 
truths  [th  aspirate 
vase  (va(^e) 
youths  (th  aspirate) 
kept  [t  sounded) 
slept  [t  sounded) 
crept  [t  sounded) 


PART   II. 


PART    II. 

PRINCIPLES  IN  ELOCUTION 


CHAPTER  I. 

EMPHASIS,  PAUSES,  AND  INFLECTIONS, 


SECTION   I. 
^.1/  /'//  .1  SIS. 

IXTKODUCTORY. 


1.  Emphasis,  as  the  tenu  is  used  in  its  ivstrictA^d  sig- 
nification, is  tlie  special  force  or  energy  of  voice  applied 
to  words  in  order  to  give  prominence  to  leading  ideas. 

2.  In  its  widest  signification,  j  however,  emphasia  is 
used  to  include  any  means  of  distinguishing  words^ 
phrases,  or  clauses,  whether  by  means  of  force,  or  inflec- 
tion, or  stress,  or  quantity,  or  pauses. 

3.  A  word  may  be  made  emphatic  by  an  intense 
wliisper;  by  a  strong  rising,  falling,  or  cin*umflex  slide: 
l)y  i)rolonging  vowel  or  liquid  sounds;  or  by  rhetorical 
pausesr 

4.  As  conimoidy  used,  however,  emphasis  relates  to 
the  degree  or  intensity  of  force.  But  the  stronger  the 
emphatic  fom .  thr-  lonirrr  iwo  tli       '  '  ,1  the  more 

(67) 


prolongt'd  the  voutl  aiul  tln'  Injuift  .-sfiKinLs.  It  may  here 
l»t*  remarked  tliat  the  liquid  sounds  capable  of  being 
prolonged  in  emphasis  are  I,  m,  m,  and  r.  The  short 
vowel  sounds  and  the  consonant  sounds,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  /,  m,  /I,  r,  cannot  be  prolonged  in  emphasis. 

5.  "Every  sentence/^  says  Prof.  William  Russell,  "con- 
tains one  or  more  words  which  are  prominent,  and 
peculiarly  important,  in  the  expression  of  meaning. 
These  words  are  marked  with  a  distinctive  inflection; 
those,  in  particular,  which  illustrate  the  reading  of  strong 
emotion,  or  of  antithesis. 

6.  "The  words  which  are  pronounced  with  peculiar 
inflection,  are  uttered  with  more  force  than  the  other 
words  in  the  same  sentences.  This  special  force  is  what 
is  called  emphasis.  Its  use  is  to  impress  more  strik- 
ingly on  the  mind  of  the  hearer  the  thought,  or  portion 
of  thought,  embodied  in  the  particular  word  or  phrase 
on  which  it  is  laid. 

7.  "It  gives  addititiiial  I'licrgy  u>  iiiipurtuiil  poiuUs 
in  expression,  by  causing  sounds  which  are  peculiarly 
significant,  to  strike  the  ear  ^vith  an  appropriate  and 
distinguishing  force.  It  possesses,  in  regard  to  the  sense 
of  hearing,  a  similar  advantage  to  that  of  'relief,'  or 
prominence  to  the  eye,  in  a  well-executed  picture,  in 
which  the  figures  seem  to  stand  out  from  the  canvas. 

8.  "  Emphasis,  then,  being  the  manner  of  pronouncing 
the  most  significant  words,  its  office  is  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  an  intelligible  and  impressive  utterance. 
It  is  the  manner  of  uttering  emphatic  words  which 
decides  the  meaning  of  every  sentence  that  is  read  or 
spoken. 

9.  "A  true  emphasis  conveys  a  sentiment  clearly  and 
forcibly  to  the  mind,  and  keeps  the  attention  of  an 
audience  in  active  sympathy  with  the  thoughts  of  the 
speaker;  it  gives  full  value  and  effect  to  aU  that  he 
utters,  and  secures  a  lasting  impression  on  the  memory,'* 


school  elocution.  59 

11.    Faults  in  Emphasis. 

In  animated  conversation,  most  persons  emphasize 
correctly  because  they  know  clearly  what  they  wish  to 
express;  but,  in  reading  the  long  and  involved  sentences 
of  literary  composition,  the  faults  of  untrained  readers 
are  numerous. 

1.  Sometimes  the  emphasis  is  misplaced  because  the 
reader  floes  not  fl*'-""!"-  "ompreheiid  th"  <'-'><i'  of  what 
is  read. 

2.  Sometimes  the  uiiiplicisis  is  applied  at  random,  with- 
out reference  to  prominent  ideas* 

0.  Sometimes  the  untrained  reader  reads  in  a  dull, 
monotonous  tone,  without  any  emphasis  whatever. 

4.  Not  unfrequently  the  pupil  <^)verdoes  the  em]>hasis. 
and  reads  in  a  jerky,  dogmatic  manner. 

5.  There  is  often  a  tendency  to  a  regular  re*  uiivii. , 
of  emphasis,   combined   with   the  falling   inflection,  on 
random  words,  particularly  at  the  end  of  eveiy  line  of 
))(K'trv.  or  of  every  alternate  line,  or  at  the  end  of  everv' 
phi'asr  (»!•  chni.^''. 

w         111.     (xENERAL  Principles  of   Kmi'hasis. 

1.  Words  or  grouj)s  of  words  that  exj)ress  leading 
ideas  are  emphatic ;  those  that  express  what  is  compar- 
atively unimportant,  or  that  merely  repeat  what  ban 
been  previously  stated,  are  unemphatic. 

2.  Wonls  expressing  contrast  of  ideas  are  cmphatir. 

3.  The  subject  mihI  predicate  «>f  a  smti'iire  air.  in 
general,  emphu 

4.  Articles,  pronouns,  and  connectives  are,  in  general, 
unemphatiCy  though  any  ])art  of  s]>eec!i  may  sometimes 
become  emphatic. 

5.  The  emphati*'  >>«.Hi-  .-i  ..  .^.  ui.  nee  an^  generally 
the  words  most  strongly  marked  by  the  rising,  falling, 
'•r  ••!!'<miim!!'\    inflection. 


/,/ 


GO  srnooi  ion. 

|\'.       I  )i>li.S*  iiii.s     <M-     K.nrii.\>lS. 

Kiiipirufei.s   niav   !•«'   divided  into   two  kiiuU, 
or  relative  empli  i-i-,  and  absolute  emphasis. 

Antithetic  enipliasLs  is  applied  to  words  that  iiidit-uU' 
(contrast  of  ideas:  Absolute  emphasis  is  used  to  show 
the  importance  of  a  single  word  or  to  express  feeling, 
emotion,  or  passion* 

The  degree  of  emphuM.s  ii»  Im  applK-d  t"  u.r.j.  tMiy 
Im?  eonsidereil  as  slight^  moderate ,  or  ntromj 

\     Examples  op  Antithetic  Emphasis. 

1.  lie  is  not  a  frihul  but  an  htemy. 

2.  Me  raised  a  nt6rt4il  to  the  skies. 
She  drew  an  dngel  doum, 

3.  To  h^  or  ndt  t*  l..  _  tliat   i>  tli.    (juestion. 

4.  I  come  to  btirg  Civsar,  not  to  praise  him. 

5.  As  for  w«/,  give  me  liberty  or  give  me  death. 

6.  You  cannot  do  wronsr  witliont  suffering  wrong. 

7.  He  that  cannot  /  -hould  not  mdke  <m. 

8.  I  said  my  /dther,  not  my  Mother. 

9.  Talent  is  power ^   tact  is  skill. 

10.  After  the  SPWWy  the 'emerald  l^ave^j 
After  the  hdrvesty  golden  sheaves. 

11.  He  spoke  for  education,  not  against  it. 

12.  The  flerk,  in  letting  Scrooge's  nephew  <>>if.  had 
let  two  other  people  m. 

13.  Put  not  your  trust  in  motley^  but  put  your  money 
in  trust. 

14.  The  noble.st  mind  tiif  be^^t  contentment  ha.<. 

15.  Be  thou  famUiar,  but  by  no  means  vulgar. 

16.  Give  every  man  thine  «^<n\  but  few  thy  voice. 

17.  Take  each  man's  cemurej  but  reserve  thy  judgment. 


S(,:il()UL    LLCJC  I  TUjN.  61 

18.      COMPENSATION. 

PoMrifi/,  or  'i'tion  and  reaction,  u«  meet  in  every 
part,  of  nature — in  ddrlness  and  Viyht;  in  heat  and  cohl; 
in  the  M  and  flow  of  waters;  in  male  and  female;  in 
the  inspiration  and  Expiration  of  plants  and  Unimals; 
in  the  equation  of  quantity  and  quality  in  the  fluids  of 
the  animal  6<)rf//;  in  the  systole  and  diastole  of  tlie  heart; 
in  tlie  undulations  of  fluids  and  of  sound;  in  the  cew- 
tnfuffal  and  centripetal  gravity;  in  electricity,  ydlranisnij 
and  chemical  affhiify.  Superinduce  magnetism  at  Jw6  end 
of  a  needle,  the  opposite  magnetism  takes  place  at  the 
f)/A^r  end.  If  the  south  attracts,  the  north  repkls.  To 
empty  hire,  you  must  condense  <^^re.  An  inevitable 
dualism  bisects  nature,  so  that  ea<^h  thing  is  a  hdlf  and 
suggests  another  thing  to  make  it  whole;  as,  spirit,  mdt- 
ter;  man,  wdman;  6dd,  hen;  subjective,  objective;  in, 
f)ut;   upper,  under;   mdtion,  rht;   y^a,  niiy. 

All  things  are  double,  6ne  against  dnother — tit  for  td,t; 
an  eye  for  an  eye;  a  tooth  for  a  tooth;  bUod  for  blood ; 
measure  for  measure;  love  for  love.  Oive  and  it  shall 
be  gXve^i  you.  He  that  wdtereth  shall  be  watered  /i)w- 
.sc//".  What  will  you  hdvef  quoth  God;  y^ff//  for  it  and 
tdke  it.  Nothing  venture,  nothing  hdve.  Thou  shiUt  be 
paid  exactly  for  what  thou  hast  done,  no  more,  no  Ihs. 
Who  doth  not  wdrk  shall  not  M^  ehkiwok. 

\  1        li X AMPLE ^  '  1 . 1    I  I      KmPHASIS. 

Absolute  emphasis  is  applied  U)  words  according  to 
their  importance  in  the  sentence,  or  according  to  the 
degree  of  emotion  or  passion  to  be  expressed.  When  wonls 
are  repeated  for  the  purpose  of  intensifying  emotion, 
eacli   successivti  repetition   is  more  forcibly  emphasiztnl. 

1.  It  was  a  turk-  \  :  II  vi*r  could  have  stood  ujMm 
his  1h/s,  that  bird.  lie  would  have  snapped  *em  short 
off  in  a  minute,  like  sticks  of  stalinif-\\ii\. 


62  -1,    r,i... 

2.  What  is  it  that  cronthm.  n   / )  A  /    Wlmt  would  tlicv 

3.  "liiniKjfl  revinyd"  the  Faxons  cried. 

4.  Then  rose  the  t<*mble  cry  <»f  f)/v  /    fir«/ 

5.  We  must  fhjht;  I  repeat  must  fight, ^ 
r>.   "To  drms!  to  drnis!  to  itrm:i:     Urny  cry. 

7.   H^ppy,  *rf/>/)y,  M/>/>y  p&ir! 
None  but  the  ftrrftv, 
ifone  but  tlie  brdvey 
Kane  but  the  brave  des«M 

ft.      CHRISTMAS  OAROL. 

"Why,  bless  my  soiil!"  cried  Fred,  "who's  thdtr 
"It's/.     Your  iinele  Scroofft^.    T   •  to  dinner . 

Wm  you  let  me  in,  FredT  * 

Let  him  in!  It  is  a  mercy  he  didn't  shake  his  dm% 
off.  He  was  at  home  in  five  minutes.  Nothing  could 
be  heartier.  His  niece  looked  just  the  same.  So  did 
Topper,  when  M  ekme.  So  did  the  plump  sister,  when 
sM  eiime.  So  did  every  one  w^hen  thfy  came.  Wonder- 
ful  pArty,  wonderful  g&mes,  iconderful  unanimity,  irmi- 
der-fiil  happiness! 

9.    grandmother's  story  op  bunker-hill  battle. 
Then  we  cried,  "The  troop  ^  7/  thoy  nro  hmf— 

it  can't  be  dtmbtM! 
Ood  be  thanJced,  the  fight  the  grim  old 

soldier's  smile ! 
Tell  us,  TELL  us  why  you    look  so!   (we  could  hardly 

speak  we  shook  so. 
*'Are  they  Naten?   arc   ih.y  Ix'aton?  arr  thoy  hoaton?" 

—"Wait  awhile." 

♦  •  -  ..  #  ♦  # 

And  we  shout,  -Ai  last  ili.  vi.    <Knn   tor:  it's  the  barges 

they  have  run  for: 
They  are   beaten !    beaten !    beaten'  !    and  the  battle  '.*; 

Houns. 


63 


l.M>M"h..\Uh>«   K 


But  whatever  may  be  oiir  fate,  be  assured — he  assitred 
that  this  devlardtion  will  stdnd.  It  may  cost  Masure^ 
aud  it  may  cost  bldod;  but  it  will  stdndj  and  it  will 
richly  compensate  for  bdfh.  Through  the  thick  gloom 
of  the  prhent,  I  see  tlie  l)rightness  of  the  fiiture,  as  the 
sun  in  Maven.  We  shall  make  this  a  glorious y  an  im- 
mortal day.  Wlien  w^  are  in  our  graves,  our  children 
will  honor  it.  They  will  celebrate  it  with  thanTisgtving , 
with  fesOrify,  ^lath  hmfireSy  and  iUumin()tions.  On  its 
annual  retuni,  they  will  shed  t^arSy  copiouSy  gitshing  t^ars; 
not  of  subjection  and  sldvetyy  not  of  dgony  and  tH^h-''^-^- 
but  of  exultdtion,  of  grdtitudCy  and  of  joy. 

My  judgment  approves  this  measure,  and  my  whole 
Af<b*^  is  in  it.  All  that  I  hdvCy  and  all  that  I  dm,  and 
all  that  I  hope  in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  here  to 
stdl%e  upon  it;  and  I  leave  off  as  I  began,  that,  lir>  <u- 
diey  survive  or  p^rishy  I  am  for  the  declaration. 

11.     :  ;  .....   .oBY. 

"  In  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks,"  said  my  uncle  Toby, 
smiling,  "he  might  m^rch."  ''He  will  nhrr  march,  an' 
please  your  honor,  in  tMs  w6rld,''  said  the  corporal. 
"He  wUl  mai'ch,'^  said  my  uncle  T6by,  rising  np  with 
one  shoe  off.  "An'  please  your  honor,"  said  the  corporal. 
"  he  will  nh'er  marcli  but  to  his  grdve.^^  '*  He  shdU 
march,"  cried  my  uncle  Toby;  "he  shall  march  to  his 
rigimenty  "He  can  not  stdnd  it,"  said  the  corporal. 
"He  shall  be  suppdrtedy^  said  my  uncle  Toby.  "Ah, 
well-a-day,  do  what  we  can  for  him,"  said  Tnm,  main- 
taining his  point,  "the  poor  soul  will  die:'  "He  shall 
n^/,"  rfiouted  my  uncle  Toby,  with  an  oatli.  The  Accus- 
ing Spirit  which  flew  up  to  heaven's  chancery,  blushed 
as  he  gave  it  in,  and  the  Recoixling  Angel,  as  ho  wrote 
it  do>^'n,  dropped  a  tear  upon  the  word  and  blotted  it 
out  fon'vor.  ftrtmn*. 


C4  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

SECTION  II. 

PA  USES. 

-  1.  The  pauses  made  in  reading  or  speaking  may  be 
classed  as  grammatical,  rhetorical,  and  emphatic  or  emo- 
ti(mal. 

2.  QrammaHcal  pauses  are  those  indicated  by  punctua- 
tion; rhetorical  pauses  are  those  required  by  the  stnu'ture 
of  the  senti'iice,  or  by  emphasisj  and  emphatic  pauses, 
tliosf  expressive  of  dei^p  feeling  or  passion. 

These  jMiuses  nuiy  ]>e  relatively  long,  modernt  r 
siiort,  m^conlinj^  to  the  general  style  of  expression  ii})- 
propriate  to  what  is  read;  but  i!vnthout  due  attention 
t«  them,  it  is  im]M>ssible  properly  to  emphasize  prose, 
or  to  express  the  mehnly  of  vers<». 

4.   Coneeniing  pausrs.   Prof.  Uussell  says:   "Tli» 
sation  of  the  voi(  oper  intervals  has  the  same 

eifwt,  nearly,  on  <  imi  ,  >  and  sentences  with  that  of 
artieulati(m  on  syllal»l<  s,  «»r  of  pronunciation  on  words: 
it  serves  to  gather  up  the  sounds  of  the  voice  into  rela- 
tive portions,  and  aids  in  preser\nng  clearness  and  dis- 
tinction amon^  thrni.  But  what  tho.se  eh^nientary  and 
organic  effort.^  syllables  and  words — the  minor 

portions  of  sjxtc ii  pausing  does  for  clauses,  sentences, 
and  (»Titire  discourses. 

The  great  use  of  pauses  is  to  divide  thought  into 
us  constituent  portions,  and  to  leave  the  mind  oppor- 
tunity of  contemplating  each  distinctly,  so  as  fully  to 
comprehend  and  appreciate  it,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to 
perceive  it«  relation  t-o  the  whole.  Appropriate  pauses 
are  of  vast  importance,  therefore,  to  a  connect  and  im- 
pressive style  of  deliver}';  and  without  them,  indeed, 
speech  cannot  be  intelligible. 

6.  "Pausing  has,  further,  a  distinct  office  to  perform 
in  regard  to  the  effect  of  feeling  as  conveyed  by  utter- 
anoo.     A  wo  and  solemnity  an*  oxprossod  by  long  cessa- 


tions  of  tlie  voice;  ana  {^riei,  wiieii  it  is  deep,  and  at 
the  siime  time  suppressed,  requires  frequcTit  nnd  lonj^ 
pauses. 

7  "The  general  effect,  however,  ol"  *..ii,M  i  .,ij,i  will- 
tiraed  pauses,  is  what  most  requires  attention.  The 
manner  of  a  good  reader  or  speaker  is  distinguished,  in 
this  particular,  l)y  clearness,  impressiveness,  and  dignity 
arising  from  the  full  conception  of  meaning,  and  the 
deliberate  and  distinct  expression  of  it;  while  nothing 
is  so  indicative  of  want  of  attention  and  of  self-com- 
mand, and  nothing  is  so  unhappy  in  its  effect,  as  haste 
mthI  oonfnsion." 

1.      (fKAM.MATICAL    PAUSES. 

Grammatical  pauses,  or  the  pauses  indicated  by  punc- 
tuation, have  no  fixed  length/  They  depend,  to  some 
extent,  on  the  character  of  the  piece  to  be  read.  When 
the  general  movement  or  rate  is  slow,  the  pauses  are 
relatively  long;  when  the  movement  is  fast,  the  pauses 
are  relatively  short.  The  general  principles  that  govern 
grammatical  pauses  may  be  stated  as  follows: 
"  1.  In  general,  a  slight  pause  at  a  comma;  a  longer 
pause  (if  a  semicolon;  and  a  still  longer  pause  at  a  period. 
■I  -.  .1  full  pause,  latiger  than  <if  ,i  periody  is  required 
at  the  end  of  a  paragraph  of  ^       stanza  of 

poetry. 

This  pause  is  made  to  enable  the  hearer  to  note  the 
subdivisions  of  a  piocf».  an<l  to  nlT'>'"l  ♦^o  reader  time 
for  a  slight  rest. 

11.     Uhetorical  Pauses. 

1 .  Rhetorical  pauses  are  pauses  not  indicated  by  punc- 
tuation, but  which'  are  made  in  reading,  generally  for 
the  purpose  of  emphasis  or  expression.  Attention  to 
these  pauses  is  absolutely  essential  to  good  reading. 

2.  Tlie  general  tendency  of  pupils  to  read  too  fast  is 

ft 


6(5  »x. 

«»\"  iiiL',  III  no  small  (ii'^cc,  t<»  ;i  i  ji  I  ot  thi'  pauses 
IK  rrss.ijy  to  effiM'tive  utterance.  Imii!  tlie  hearer  and 
tli<  luiulir  must  have  time  to  think.  These  pauses,  too, 
airoitl  thf  reader  time  to  renew  the  breath,  and  thus 
keep  the  lungs  well  supplied  with  air. 

3.  A  continuous  stream  of  rapid  utterance  soon  wea- 
ries the  hearer,  beeauKe  the  speaker  neither  takes  time 
to  think,  nor  allows  Ins  hean^rs.  tyiie  to  do  so.  The 
t  rained  exteraporan(  <  i  ke^  xatk^  with  deliberation, 
and  the  trained  readir  nads  in  the  same  manner. 

4.  We  read  words  by  groups,  not  by  disconnected 
units.  The  beginner  laboriously  calls  out  each  word  of 
a  sentence  indepeiKhnitly.  ^\-itli  a  pause  after  each  word, 
thus: 

"The  I  bl:i  iijit      a  I  big  I  rat  the  | 

bam.'' 

A  good  reader  will  read  this  sentence  in  groups,  as 
indicateil  by  the  hj-phenized  words,  thus: 

•  The-black-cat  |  caught-a-big-rat  |  in-the-bam.^ 

">.  Pupils,  whose  attention  is  directed  to  the  manner 
in  which  tliey  run  words  together  in  speaking  and  read- 
ing, witli  pauses  between  the  groups,  will  notice  that 
jvdjectives  are  grouped  -with  the  nouns  which  they  mod- 
ify adverbs,  with  verbs  or  adjectives  or  other  adverbs; 
prepositions,  with  their  objects;  pronouns,  with  the  words 
they  niodif}^;  and  auxiliaries,  with  their  principal  verbs 
— in  otlier  words,  that  we  speak  in  phrases  and  clauses. 

6.  They  will  notice,  further,  that  when  the  subject  of 
a  verb  is  a  noun,  or  when  it  is  modified  by  a  phrase 
or  a  clause,  there  is  a  rhetorical  pause  between  the  sub- 
ject and  the  predicat»\ 

A    roMMON   FAULT. 

7.  "The  common  fault  in  regard  to  pauses,"  says 
Prof.  Russell,  "is  that  they  are  made  too  short  for 
clear  and  distinct  expression. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  67 

8.  "Feeble  utterance  and  defective  emphasis,  alonj^ 
with  rapid  articulation,  usutdly  combine  to  produce  this 
fault  in  young  readers  and  speakers.  For,  whatever 
force  of  utterance  or  energy  of  emphasis,  or  whatever 
rate  of  articulation  we  accustom  ourselves  to  us(\  our 
I)auses  are  alwa\^  iu^roportion  to  it. 

9.  "Undue  T)re^y  m  p'ausing  has  a  like  bad  effect 
with  too  rapid  articulation:  it  produces  obscurity  and 
confusion  in  speech,  or  imparts  sentiment  in  a  manner 
which  is  deficient  and  unimpressive,  and  prevents  the 
proper  effect  both  of  thought  and  language. 

10.  "To  l)e  fully  convinced  how  much  of  the  clear- 
ness, force,  and  dignity  of  style  depends  on  due  pauses, 
we  have  only  to  revert  for  a  moment  to  the  effect  of 
rapid  reading  on  a  passage  of  Milton,  and  observe  what 
an  utter  subversion  of  the  characteristic  sublimity  of  the 
author  seems  to  take  place.  This  instance  is,  no  doubt, 
a  strong  and  peculiar  one.  But  a  similar  result,  though 
less  striking,  may  be  traced  in  the  hurried  reading  of  any 
piece  of  composition  characterized  by  force  of  thought 
or  dignity  of  expression. 

11.  "When  habitual  rapidity  of  voice,  and  omission 
of  pauses,  are  difficult  to  coirect,  the  learner  may  be 
required  to  accompany  the  teacher's  voice  in  the  practice 
«»f  sentences^  This  simultaneous  reading,  if  sufficiently 
long  continued,  will  probably  prove  effectual  for  the 
cure  of  habitual  faults.  A  second  stage  of  progress 
may  be  entered  on,  when  the  learner's  improvement  will 
wamint  it;  and  he  may  be  pennitted  to  read  affrr  tlie 
teachei-. 

12.  •' l*u2)ils  wiio  possess  an  ear  tor  nm- ■  ,  n  .  1" 
taught  to  observe  that  there  is  in  readiuu^  ;in.i  >{.  .li.:;- 
a  'time,'  as  distinct  and  perceptible,  and  as  iniixirtant, 
as  in  singing,  or  in  performing  on  any  instrument;  and 
that  pauses  are  unifoi*mly  measured  with  reference  to 
this  time." 


68  RCHOoi.   i:L*HrTi« 


13.  The  careful  study  ni  ;.  iw  selections  for  the  pur- 
pose of  marking  pauses,  emphasis,  and  inflection,  is  also 
an  excellent  exercise  in  parsing  and  analysis.  This 
method  is  a  slow  one,  but  it  will  lead  to  thoughtful, 
careful,  and  expressive  reading. 

14.  For  the  purpose  of  aiding  pupils  to  gain  a  clear 
comprehension  of  this  subject,  general  principles  are 
applied  under  a  number  of  definite  rules,  which  are 
illustrated  by  copious  examples.  The  value  of  thorough 
drill  on  these  examples  cannot  be  overestimated. 

15.  If  any  teachers  object  to  formal  rules,  the  follow- 
ing remarks  of  Prof.  Russell  are  commended  to  their 
att^ention: 

16.  "Persons,  even,  who  admit  the  use  of  rules  on  other 
subjects,  contend,  that,  in  reading  and  speaking,  no  rules 
are  necessary;  that  a  correct  ear  is  a  sufficient  guide, 
and  the  only  safe  one.  If,  by  a  *  correct  ear,'  be  meant 
a  vague  exercise  of  feeling  or  of  taste,  unfounded  on  a 
principle,  the  guidance  will  prove  to  be  that  of  conjec- 
ture, fancy,  or  whim.  But  if,  by  a  *  correct  ear,'  be 
meant  an  intuitive  exercise  of  judgment  or  of  taste, 
consciously  or  unconsciously  recognizing  a  principle, 
then  is  there  virtually  implied  a  latent  rule;  and  the 
instructor's  express  office,  is,  to  aid  his  pupil  in  detect- 
ing, applj-ing,  and  retaining  that  rule. 

17.  "Systematic  rules  are  not  arbitrary';  they  are 
founded  on  obser\'ation  and  exi)erience.  No  one  who  is 
not  ignorant  of  their  meaning  and  application,  will  ob- 
ject to  them,  merely  because  they  are  systematic,  well 
defined,  and  easily  understood:  every  refiective  student 
of  any  art,  prefers  systematic  knowledge  to  conjectural 
judgment,  and  seizes  with  avidity  on  a  principle,  be- 
cause he  knows  that  it  involves  those  rules  which  are 
the  guides  of  practice." 


SfTIOf)T,    ELO(    I     I  I  M  ..  69 

ni.    Rules  for  Kiietohual  Pauses. 
Rule  I.    A  rhetorical  pause  should  be  made  beticeen  the 
mbjeet  and  the  predicate  of  a  sentence  when  the  subject  is 
emi)hatic,  or  when  it  consists  of  a  phrase  or  a  clause,  or 
of  a  noun  modified  by  a  phrase  or  a  clause. 

EXASIPLES. 

1.  Art  I  is  long,  and  time  \  is  fleeting, 
And  the  grave  \  is  not  its  goal. 

2.  To  err  |  is  human,  to  forgive,  divine. 

3.  To  reach  the  Indies  |  was  the  object  of  Coluni))ii>. 
4;^  How  he  found  his  way  out  |  is  not  known. 

5.  Whom  the  gods  love  |  die  young  |  was  said  of  yoti. 

6.  Who  steals  my  purse  |  steals  tmsh. 

7.  No  wind  that  blew  |  was  bitterer  than  he. 

8.  Not  to  know  me  \  argues  yourself  |  unknown. 

9.  It  was  for  hitn  |  that  the  sitn  |  had  been  darkened, 
that  the  rocks  \  had  been  rent,  that  the  dktd  \  had  risen, 
that  all  nature  \  had  shuddered  at  the  sufferings  of  her 
expiring  God.  Death  \  had  lost  it?  terrors  \  and  pleasure 
its  chdrms. 

Turn  to  any  unmarked  selection  in  J-iirr  in.  mtd  rtquire  ])upils  :y 
fMfint  out  further  illustrations  of  this  rule. 

Hul(  II.  Make  a  rhiturical  paa.^i  ./.;<>#,  a  claust  nsx/ 
as  a  predicate  nominative,  or  as  the  object  of  a  v>  rh. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  Tilt'  irulh  is  |  he  knows  nothing  about  the  subject. 

2.  It  was  in  midwinter  |  that  the  Pilgrims  landed  at 
Plvmouth. 

3.  I  do  not  know  [where  he  went. 

4.  He  did  not  say  f%hen  he  should  go. 

5.   I  wish  I  that  friends  were  always  true, 
And  motives  always  pure; 
I  wish  I  the  good  were  not  k  • 
I  v/=  ^      'ho  bad  Y>(-    *  • 


•  SCHOOL   ELOCUTION. 

Rule  III.    Make  a  rhetorical  pause  after  introdurfoni 
tmnsposed  adverbial  words j  phrases,  or  claust^ 


1.  Slowly  aud  sadly  |  we  laid  him  down. 

2.  Forth  in  the  pleasing  spring  |  thy  Iwauty  walks. 

3.  In  their  i*agged  regimentals  |  stood  the  old  conti- 
nentals. 

4.  If  he  did  that  |  he  ought  to  be  punished. 

5.  During  that  terrible  storm  |  the  ship  foundered. 

6.  Who  she  was  |  nobody  knows. 

7.  In  all  its  history  |  the  Constitution  has  been  benefi- 
cent. 

8.  And  up  the  steep  {  barbarian  monarchs  ride. 
9.  Domi  I  came  the  blow !  but  in  the  heath 

The  erring  blade  found  bloodless  sheath. 

Rule  IV.  Unless  the  phrases  or  clauses  are  ahori  or 
very  closely  connected,  make  a  rhetorical  pause  before 
adjective  or  adverbiiil  phrases  or  clauses. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  There  is  a  reaper  |  whose  name  is  Death. 

2.  He  is  the  same  man  |  that  you  spoke  of. 

3.  I  will  go  I  when  you  are  ready.      ' 

4.  Let  me  have  men  about  me  |  that  are  fat. 

5.  The  swallows  |  that  build  their  nests  in  the  old 
barn  |  migrate  |  when  winter  comes. 

6.  Our  fathers  raised  their  flag  against  a  power  |  to 
which,  for  purposes  of  foreign  conquest  and  subjuga- 
tion, Rome,  in  the  height  of  her  glory,  is  not  to  be 
compared — a  power  |  which  has  dotted  the  surface  of 
the  whole  globe  |  with  her  possessions  |  and  military 
posts;  whose  morning  di-um-beat,  following  the  sun  in 
his  course,  and  keeping  pace  with  the  hom*s,  daily  circles 
the  earth  |  with  one  continuous  and  unbroken  strain  | 
of  the  martial  airs  of  England  Webster, 


S<'7TOOT.     1.  i, \  .  71 

litde  r.  Mdkc  a  pause  before  and  after  adverbs  or 
adverbial  phrases  transposed  so  as  to  break  the  regular 
order  of  arrangement. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  The  plowman  |  homeward  |  plods  his  weary  way. 

2.  And  some  |  to  happy  homes  |  repair. 
:j.   As  we  |  to  higher  levels  |  rise. 

4.   Who  I  of  this  crowd  |  to-night  |  shall  tread 
The  dance  |  till  daylight  |  gleam  again  ? 
5.   If  Memory  |  o'er  their  tomb  |  no  trophies  raise. 
().   Await  I  alike  |  the  inevitable  hour. 
7.   Their  furrow  |  oft  |  the  stubborn  glebe  has  broke. 


Jiule  VL  III  sentences  introduced  by  idiomatic  it  or 
there,  maJce  a  rhetorical  pause  before  the  subject-phrase 
"I-  'Jause  that  is  placed  after  the  predicate, 

EXAMPLES. 

1 .   There  came  to  the  beach  |  a  poor  exile  of  Erin. 

1.   It  is  not  known  |  how  the  prisoner  made  his  escape. 

'\.  It  is  not  tnio  |  that  the  poet  paints  a  life  that  does 
not  exist. 

4.  There  lit-.s  [  on  the  table  before  me  |  all  that  in- 
had  wi'itten.  of  his  latest  an4  last  story. 

Rule  VII.  Malie  a  rhetorical  pause  after  predicate 
adjectives  used  to  introduce  a  sentencCy  and  after  nouns 
or  pronouns  in  the  objective  case  when  they  are  trans- 
po.sr>7  hffore  the  verbs  which  govern  them. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  Sweet  I  arc  the  uses  of  adversity. 

2.  Few  and  short  |  were  the  prayers  we  said.. 

W.   How  sweet  and  solemn  |  is  this  midnight  scene. 
4.   Thee  |  I  revisit  now  |  with  bolder  wing. 
'     SI  all  the  air  |  a  solemn  stillness  '  holds. 


72  scHOoi.  eIjOCCtion. 

Rule  VIII,  When  an  ellipsis  of  thf  f'rh  nrnas  in  a 
sentence^  make  a  rhetorical  pause. 

KXAMPLES. 

1.  Homer  was  the  greater  genius;  \  irgil  |  [was]  the 
better  artist.  In  the  one  |  we  most  admire  the  man;  in 
the  other  |  [we  most  admire]  the  work. 

2.  Death  had  lost  its  terrors,  and  pl.sivuro  |  [had 
lost]  its  charms. 

3.  Their  palaces  were  houses  |  not  made  witli  hands; 
their '  diadem^  |  [were]  crowns  of  glory  which  shonlrl 
never  fade  away. 

4.  Lands  |  he  coiUd  measure,  tenns  ml  tides  |  [he 
coidd]  presage.  /, 

5.  Thy  waters  wasted  them  while  they  were  free,  and 
many  a  tjTant  |  [has  wjisted  them]  since. 

Require  the  class  to  find  Jive  additional  examples. 


Rule  IX,  Unless  the  grammatical  connection  is  very 
close,  a  short  pause  should  he  made  at  the  e:\d  of  every 
line  of  poetry,  to  mark  the  poetic (fhythtn. 

1.      PARADISE  LOST. 

Anon  I  out  of  the  earth  |  a  fabric  huge  \ 
Rose  like  an  exhalation,  with  the  sound  | 
Of  didcet  symphonies,  and  voices  sweet, 
Built  like  a  temple,  where  pilasters  |  round 
Were  set,  and  Doric  pillars,  overlaid  | 
With  golden  architrave. 

2.      POWER  OP  MUSIC. 

Twas  at  the  royal  feast,  for  Persia  won  | 

By  Philip's  warlike  son — 
Aloft  in  awful  state  | 
The  godlike  hero  sate  | 

On  his  imperial  throne.  duydex. 


SCHOOL    i:i,()(' I   I'loN.  73 

3.      THK   SHIl'WUKCK. 

Twas  twilight,  for  the  sunless  day  went  down  | 

Over  the  waste  of  waters,  like  a  veil  | 
Which,  if  withdrawn,  would  but  disclose  the  frown  I 

Of  one  I  wliose  hate  |  is  masked  but  to  assail. 
Thus  to  their  hopeless  eyes  |  the  night  was  shown, 

And  grimly  darkled  o'er  their  faces  pale. 
And  the  dim,  desolate  deep;  twelve  days  |  had  Fear  | 
Been  their  familiar,  and  now  Death  \  was  here. 

4.       1  HE  LADDER  OP  ST.   AUGUSTINE. 

All  these  |  must  first  be  trampled  down  | 
Beneath  our  feet  |  if  we  would  gain  | 

In  the  bright  fields  of  fair  renown  | 

The  right  |  of  eminent  domain.  LoxurEu-ow. 


IV.    Emphatic  Pauses. 

Rule  I.  Emphatic  pauses  occur  when  the  reader  desires 
to  call  marked  attention  to  some  word  or  group  of  words. 

KXAMPUSS, 

1.  Tlie  penalty  was  |    |    |  death. 

2.  My  answer  would  be    |    |  a  blow. 

''\.    You  call  me  dog;   and  for  these  coiirtesifs 
PU  lend  vt'u     fli'is     n^irh  I  moneys,  f 

4.    Ilath  a  dog  \  money  f     Is  it  possible  | 

A  cur  I    I  can  lend  |    |    |  three  \    \  thousand  |    |  ducats! 

5.   Rider  and  horse,  friend,  foe,  in  one  \  red  \  burial  | 

0.  They  did  not  see  one  |  m<)n,  not  \  one  \  woman,  \  I 
not  I  due  \  child,  not  one  \  four-footed  b^ast  \  \  of  ling  de- 
scription I    I  whather.     One  |  dead  |  uniform  \  sUence  |    | 


74  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

7.    The  love  that  loves  a  scarlet  coat 
Should  be  |    |  more  Uniform. 

8.      BUKKEB  HILL. 

Just  a  glimpse  (the  air  is  clearer),  they  are  nearer  |    | 

nearer  |    |  nearer, 
When  a  flash — a  curling  sTn<)ko-\\T*('atli — then  a  crash — 

the  steeple  shakes; 
The  deadly  truce  is  ended  j  |    |  the  tempest's  shroud  is 

rended;  |    | 
Like  a  morning  mist  it  gathered,  |    |  like  a  thunder  cloud 

I    I  it  breaks. 

All  through  those  hours  of  trial,  I  had  watched  a  calm 

clock-dial, 
As  the  hands  kept  creeping^  \    \  creeping^  \    \    \  they  were 

creeping  |    |  round  to  four.  holmm. 


V.    Recapitulation  op  Pauses. 

1.  In  general,  a  rhetorical  pause  should  he  mude  between 
the  subject  and  the  predicate,  when  the  suhje<;t  is  emphatic, 
or  when  it  consists  of  a  phrase,  a  clause,  or  a  noun  mod- 
ified by  a  phrase  or  a  clause. 

2.  A  rhetorical  pause  shouM  be  made  whenever  flu 
regular  order  of  a  sentence  is  broken  by  the  inversion  of 
words,  phrases,  or  clauses. 

3.  An  emphatic  pause  occurs  before  any  word  that  is 
very  strongly  emphatic,  or  to  which  the  reader  or  speaker 
desires  to  call  marked  attentian. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  75 

SECTION  m. 
IXFLECTION. 

I.    Introductory  Remarks. 

1.  In  all  good  speaking  or  reading,  there  must  be 
ever-varj-ing  npward  and  downward  slides  of  the  voice. 
Inflection  is  a  means,  not  only  of  expressing  emotion, 
passion,  and  emphasis,  but,  also,  of  conveying  the  finer 
distinctions  and  contrasts  of  ideas,  and  the  more  delicate 
shades  of  feeling  and  sentiment. 

2.  Inflection  fonns  an  important  element  of  emphasis: 
for  emphasis  consists,  not  oiUy  in  force,  but  also  in  the 
slides  and  in  quantity. 

3.  Reading,  when  it  lacks  the  melody  of  varied  em- 
phasis and  inflection,  becomes  Uke  the  monotonous 
droning  of  children  who  laboriously  pronounce  the  suc- 
cessive words  of  their  reading  lesson  in  the  conven- 
tional school  tone. 

4.  In  animated  conversation,  and  in  the  reading  of 
simple  stories,  the  inflections  take  care  of  themselves 
without  thought  by  the  speaker  or  reader;  but  in  the 
long  and  often  inverted  sentences  of  finished  prose  or 
poetiy,  involving  a  higher  and  more  complicated  order 
of  thought,  the  proper  application  of  emphasis  and 
inflection  retiuires  some  knowledge  of  the  principles  of 
elocution. 

5.  ^V^lile  it  is  true  that  a  clear  conception  of  the 
spirit  and  meaning  by  the  reader  is  essential  to  good 
reading,  it  is  equally  true  that,  having  the  right  con- 
ception, the  reader  may  fail  to  convey  it  to  the  hearer, 
t  rom  ignorance  of  the  principles  that  irovcrn  the  correct 
expression  of  thought  and  feeling. 

6.  Good  reatling,  like  fine  singing,  is  the  result  of 
systematic  tniining — is  the  product  of  culture  and  art. 
There  are  good  natural  voices  both  for  singing  and 


76  snioni.    1. 1.<  M  I    1  I  <  ..\  . 

reading,  but  a  fine  singer,  without  training  in  the  science 
and  art  of  music,  is  as  rare  as  is  a  good  reader  of  gen- 
eral English  literature,  who  is  ignorant  of  the  principles 
of  elocution,  and  untrained  in  the  management  of  the 
voice. 

7.  The  real  object  of  school  elocution  is,  not  to  enable 
l>uj)il8  to  read  by  imitation  a  few  selected  pieces  in  the 
style  of  an  actor,  but  to  make  thoughtful  and  intelli- 
gent readers  independent  of  the  assistance  of  teachers. 

8.  One  "reason  for  the  full  treatment  of  inflection  in 
this  book  is  the  great  imiwrtimce  of  the  subject  as  a 
means  of  expressive  and  impresHve  reading. 

9.  Another  reason  is  the/  ciirywy'^ianner  in  which 
the  few  in  trod  ue  tor}'  rules  and  illustrations  are  taken 
up  in  the  grammar  school.  Teachers  of  high  schools 
and  normal  schools  are  aware  of  the  fact  that  many  of 
their  pupils  come  into  school  not  only  ignorant  of  the 
principles  of  inflection,  but  al-  nitrained  in  the 
raauagoraent  of  the  voice  that  tlicy  cannot  give  the 
correct  inflecfions  even  when  indicated,  and  sometimes 
cannot  even  imitate  them  when  given  by  the  teacher. 

10.  It  is  not  unreasonable  to  expect  that,  in  high  and 
normal  schools,  there  should  be  training  enough  to 
enable  students  themselves  to  apply  the  general  prin- 
ciples of  elocution;  and  that  there  should  be  practice 
enough  to  secure  some  flexibility  in  the  management  of 
the  void*. 

11.  Exjn'Ciiiiion  in  reading  depends  largely  on  the  vari- 
ety produced  by  the  proper  and  effective  application  of 
the  slides.  There  is  no  excuse  for  the  neglect  that  leads 
to  the  monotonous  and  lifeless  style  of  reading  charac- 
teristic of  many  high  schools  and  colleges. 

''This  school-tone,^  says  Prof.  Russell,  "can  be  tol- 
erated only  in  a  law  paper,  a  state  document,  a  bill  of 
lading,  or  an  invoice,  in  the  reading  of  which  the  mere 
distinct  enunciation  of  the  words  is  deemed  sufficient. 


SCTTOOT,   TT.orrTTrjx.  77 

In  other  circumstances,  it  kills,  witli  inevitable  certainty, 
ever^-thing  like  feeling  or  expression." 

12.  The  careful  study  of  an  extract  from  some  stand- 
ard author,  for  the  purpose  of  marking  it  for  inflection, 
emphasis,  and  pauses,  is  an  intellectual  discipline  of  no 
mean  order.  It  combines,  in  one  lesson,  rhetoric,  gram- 
mar, and  elocution. 

13.  It  matters  little  whether  aspiring  elocutionists  can 
or  can  not  render  effectively  such  pieces  as  "The  Raven," 
"The  Bells,"  or  "CatUine's  Defiance";  but  it  is  a  mat- 
ter of  solid  importiince  for  them  to  be  able  to  read 
intelligently  and  effectively  such  extracts  as  Macaulay's 
"  Puritans,"  Bryant's  "  Winds,"  Byron's  "  Apostrophe 
to  the  Ocean,"  one  of  Webstei*'s  "Speeches,"  or  an  ex- 
tract fi'om  ^lilton  or  Shakespeare.  The  trained  reader 
is  able  not  only  to  read  well,  but  also  to  give  good 
reasons  for  reading  with  good  taste,  discrimination,  and 
judgment. 

14.  As  an  aid  both  to  teachers  and  pupils  in  apply- 
ing principles  and  rules,  a  considerable  number  of 
extracts  and  examples  are  marked  for  inflection,  em- 
phasis, and  pauses.  When  these  have  been  carefully 
studied  and  read,  pupils  ought  to  be  able  to  apply,  to 
some  extent  at  least,  principles  and  rules  to  unmarked 
extracts,  thus  becoming  independent  of  imitation  and 
of  t»'?i"li«*r>i. 

11.    Distinctions  op  Inflection. 

1.  Inflection  may  be  defined  as  an  upward  or  down- 
ward slide  of  the  voiced  generally  on  the  emphatic  word 
or  words  of  a  sentence.  In  words  of  more  than  one 
syllable,  the  inflection  falls  chiefly  on  the  vowel  of  the 
accented  sylhible;  hence  the  miu*k  of  inflection  is  placed 
over  tlie  vowel  in  the  accented  syllable. 
\     '^-    The  rising  inflection,  iiidi.  ntnl  In   ilh    .!.:;.    .u-eent 


78  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

( ' ),  is  used  in  direct  questions,  and,  in  general,  when- 
ever the  sense  is  incomplete. 

3.  The  falling  inflection,  indicated  by  the  grave  accent 
( ^ ),  is  used  in  complete  declarative,  exclamatory,  or  very 
emphatic  statements,  and,  in  general,  wherever  the  sense 
is  complete^  or  does  not  depend  on  something  to  follow. 

4.  The  circumflex,  a  combination  of  the  rising  and 
tailing  inflecti(ms  on  the  same  sound  or  word,  indicated 
til  11^  '  or  "  )y  is  used  in  surprise,  sarcasm,  irony,  wit, 
iiunior,  and  in  expressing  a  pun,  or  a  double  meaning. 
The  rising  circumflex  is  used  in  place  of  the  direct  ris- 
ing inflection  to  add  force  to  tie  emphasis,  and  the 
tMlliiitr  circumflex  in  place  of  the  direct  falling  inflec- 
t  i  ( '  1 1 . 

5.  The  monotone  ( —  .  that  is,  one  uniform  tone,  is 
merely  the  absence  of  any  marked  rising  or  falling  slide 
above  or  below  the  general  level  of  the  sentence. 

HI      Length  op  Slides. 

1.  The  length  of  the  rising  or  the  falling  inflection, 
in  ascending  or  descending  the  scale,  depends  on  the 
t  orce  of  emphasis  applied  to  words  marked  by  inflection. 

2.  The  degrees  of  inflection  may  be  roughly  distin- 
guished as  corresponding  to  the  second ,  third,  fifth,  and 
f  i(/hth  notes  in  the  musical  scale,  including  the  semi- 
tones, or  chromatic  notes,  of  the  minor  second,  third, 
lifth,  and  eighth  notes. 

3.  The  "second"  and  "third"  are  classed  as  the  un- 
rmotional  slides,  as  contrasted  with  the  "fifth"  and 
•eighth,"  which  are  the  emotional  inflections. 

IV.    The  Slide  of  the  Second. 

1.  The  inflection  of  the  second  is  a  very  slight  up- 
ward or  downward  slide  of  the  voice,  expi-essing  what 


Grirooi      1   Lc;UUTION.  79 

may  be  termed  ilio  cunviiT  melody  of  the  sentence,  in 
quiet  conversation  and  in  unemotional  reading.  It  is 
the  distance  in  tone  between  G  and  D,  or  Do  and  Re 
on  the  scale  in  music. 

2.  ''The  simple  rise  and  fall  of  the  second,  and  per- 
haps its  wave,"  says  Dr.  Rush,  ''when  used  for  plain 
narration,  or  for  the  mere  statement  of  an  unexcited 
idea,  is  the  only  intonated  voice  of  man  that  does  not 
spring  from  a  passionate,  or,  in  some  degree,  an  earnest 
condition  of  his  mind.  If  we  listen  to  his  ignorance, 
doubt,  selfishness,  arrogance,  and  injustice,  we  hear  the 
vivid  forms  of  vocal  expression,  proceeding  from  these 
and  related  passions. 

3.  "■  Thus  we  have  the  rising  intervals  of  the  fifth  and 
octave,  for  interrogatives,  not  of  wisdom  but  of  envious 
curiosity;  the  downward  third,  fifth,  and  octave,  for  dog- 
matic or  tyrannical  command;  waves  for  the  siuprise 
of  ignorance,  the  snarling  of  ill-humor,  and  the  curling 
voice,  along  with  the  curling  lip  of  contempt;  the  pierc- 
ing height  of  pitch  for  the  scream  of  terror;  the  semi- 
tone, for  the  peevish  whine  of  discontent,  and  for  the 
puling  cant  of  the  h}'i)ocrite  and  the  knave,  who  cover 
beneath  the  voice  of  kindness,  the  designs  of  tlieir  craft. 

4.  "Then  listen  to  him  on  those  rare  occasions,  when 
he  forgets  himself  and  his  passions,  and  has  to  utter  a 
simple  idea,  or  plainly  to  narrate;  and  you  will  hear 
the  second,  the  least  obtrusive  interval  of  the  scale, 
in  the  admirable  harmony  of  Nature,  made  the  simple 
sign  of  the  unexcited  sentiment  of  her  wisdom  and 
truth.'' 

\      iNFiiEcnox  Drill  on  the  Second. 

1.  Count,  in  a  gentle  tone,  from  one  to  twenty,  with 
the  slight  rising  inflection,  thus — 6ne,  tw6,  three,  four,  etc. 

2.  Count  from  one  to  twenty  with  the  slight  falling 

uif^^w.*;..,.    n.,,..  _,"„„»_  f^v«N.  otc. 


so  8CHOOT     ^^  ^^M  Tiox. 

3.  Count  with  alt/Crnatc  rising  and  falling,  thus — 6ne, 
tw6,  thr^,  four,  etc.,  to  thirty. 

4.  Sound  the  long  vocals,  a,  e,  i,  o,  u:  (1)  With  the 
rising  second.  (2)  With  the  falling  second.  (3)  Alter- 
nate rising  and  falling. 

VI.    The  Slide  op  the  Third. 

1.  The  slide  of  the  third  corresponds  to  the  interval, 
on  the  scale,  between  C  and  E,  or  Do  and  Mi. 

2.  When  the  voice  rises  on  a  word  through  an  inter- 
val of  two  tones,  or  a  major  third,  it  expresses  moderate 
emphasis,  interrogation,  contrast,  or  slight  surprise;  when 
the  voice  falls  through  the  same  interval,  it  expresses 
moderate  emphasis,  assertion,  command,  contrast,  or  the 
conclusion  of  a  proposition. 

3.  The  inflection  of  the  third  is  the  prevailing  slide 
of  animated  and  earnest  conversation,  and  of  the  slightly 
emphatic  words  of  narrative,  didactic,  or  descriptive  com- 
position.    It  is  the  slide  of  antithesis  in  contrasted  words. 

Vli.     Unemotional  Slides. 

The  slides  of  the  second  and  third  are  the  senten- 
tial or  unemotional  inflections  as  contrasted  with  the 
fifth  and  the  eighth,  which  are  the  slides  of  emotion  and 
passion. 

VIU.    Inflection  Drill  on  the  Third. 

1.  Count,  with  moderate  force  and  emphasis,  from  one 
to  twenty  with  the  rising  third,  thus:  one,  two,  three,  etc. 

2.  Count  from  one  to  twenty  with  the  falling  third, 
thus:   6ne,  tw6,  thr^e,  etc. 

3.  Count  with  alternate  rising  and  falling  third,  thus: 
6ne,  tw6,  three,  ihwr,  eto. 

4.  Will  you  go   or  sfdy^ 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  81 

IX.    The  Slides  op  the  Fifth  and  the  Eighth. 

1.  The  slide  of  the  fifth  corresponds  to  the  interval 
between  C  and  6?,  or  Bo  and  Sol,  and  the  slide  of  the 
«'ighth,  or  the  octave,  to  the  interval  between  C  and 
(\  or  Do  and  Do. 

2.  When  the  voice  rises  through  the  interval  of  the  fifth, 
it  expresses  impassioned  interi'Ogation,  extreme  surprise, 
or  strong  negation;  when  it  falls  through  the  same  in- 
terval, it  expresses  deep  conviction,  strong  determination, 
emphatic  declaration,  stem  command,  or  strong  emotion. 

3.  Under  the  influence  of  intense  excitement  or  pas- 
sion, the  voice  sometimes  rises  or  falls  through  the 
whole  octave.  The  rising  octave  expresses  amazement, 
astonishment,  excited  interrogation,  intense  irony,  and 
the  falling  octave  expresses  fierce  determination,  impas- 
sioned scorn,  imprecation,  and  defiance. 

4.  Thus,  when  Douglas  cries  out  under  the  influence 
of  intense  anger — 

"And  dar^st  thou  then 
To  beard  the  lion  in  his  d^n, 
The  Douglas  in  his  hdllf" 
The  voice  on  "hall"  rises  through  the  whole  octave.    And 
when  Coriolanus  cries  out:  *^ Medsureless  liar,"  the  voice 
(m  "measureless"  falls  through  the  octave. 

5.  The  words  ^'dh!  indeed!^  uttered  so  as  to  express 
the  greatest  possible  degree  of  astonishment,  illustrate 
the  rising  octave. 

X.    Inflection  Drill. 

1.  Sound  tlie  long  vocals,  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  with  the  rising 
fifth;   the  faUing  fifth. 

2.  Sound  the  long  vocals,  a,  e,  I,  o,  u,  with  the  rising 
eighth;  with  the  falling  octave. 

3.  Count  from  one  to  twenty  with  the  rising  fifth; 
the  falling  fifth.  e 


82  SCHOOL    ETXwTTir.v. 

I.    THE   RISING  INFLECTION. 

1.  The  rising  inflection  calls  attention  to  what  is  to 
follow^  It  is  the  inflection  of  inconwMe^slatement.  of 
appeal^  of  inquiry,  and  of  negative  dntnhesis. 

-.  It  is  the  prevailing  inflection  of  sentiment,  of  tender- 
ness, and  of  pathos. 

3.  It  is  the  characteristic  inflection  used  in  stating 
what  is  comparatively  unimportant,  TSifT  qnesfionable, 
doubtful,  or  parenthetical 

Rules  for  the  Rising  Inflection. 

/.'///'  /.  Questions  requiring  yes  or  NO  for  an  answer 
have  the  rising  inflection,  except  when  very  emphatic, 

KXAMPLXA. 

[Rising  Third,— lAght  Emphasis.] 

1.  Have  you  recited  your  lissmisf 

2.  Is  it,  O  m^,  with  such  discordant  twises, 

With  such  accursed  instruments  as  tMse, 
Thou  drownest  Nature's  sweet  and  kindly  vdices, 
And  jarrest  the  celestial  harmonies  f 
3.    Breathes  there  the  man  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 

Tliis  is  my  own,  my  native  Idndf 
Whose  heart  hath  ne'er  within  him  burned, 
As  home  his  footsteps  he  hath  turned, 
From  wandering  on  a  foreign  strand  f 

[Fifth  and  Eighth. — Strong  Emphasis.] 

4.  Hates  any  man  the  thing  he  would  not  kiJl^ 

5.  Wlmt!  wouldst  thou  have  a  serpent  sting  thee 
twice  f 

(J.    And  dar'st  thou  then 

To  beard  the  lion  in  his  den, 
The  Douglas  in  his  hdllf 


S(  li       >     i:i.ocuTiON.  83 

7.    Art  thou  a  friend  to  Roderick? — N6. 
Thou  diir'st  not  ctill  thyself  his  foe  t 

8.  Is  it  come  to  tMsf  Shall  an  inferior  mdgisirate, 
ii  g(Wemor,  who  holds  his  whole  power  of  the  Roman 
people,  in  a  Roman  prorincej  within  sight  of  Itahjf 
hind,  Hvourge,  (ortnrf,  and  put  to  an  infamous  d^ath,  a 
Roman  citizen  f  Shall  neither  the  cries  of  imwcenee 
expiring  in  dgonj/y  the  tears  of  pitying  speMtors,  the 
majesty  of  the  Roman  Commomcealth^  nor  fear  of  the 
justice  of  his  country ,  restrain  the  merciless  monster, 
who,  in  the  confidence  of  his  riches,  strikes  at  the  very 
root  of  liberty  J  and  sets  mankind  at  defiance  f  And 
shaU  this  man  escape?  Fathers,  it  must  not  6^7  It 
must  not  U,  unless  you  would  undermine  the  very 
foundations  of  social  safety,  strangle  justice,  and  call 
down    ninirclni,    m/issarre,    and    ruin    on    tlie    Common- 

Wl'altll  I  ClOEBO. 

9.  Canst  thou  bind  the  unicorn  with  his  band  in  the 
furrow?  or  ^viU  he  harrow  the  valleys  after  theet  Wilt 
thou  trust  him  because  liis  strength  is  gretit?  or  wilt 
thou  leave  thy  labor  to  him? 

(la vest  thou  the  goodly  wings  unto  the  peacocl's?  or 
wings  and  feathers  unto  the  ostrich?  Canst  tliou  draw 
(»ut  leviathan  ^rith  a  hook?  or  his  tongue  with  a  cord 
wliich  thou  h'ttest  down?  Canst  thou  put  a  hook  into 
Ids  n()se?  or  bore  his  jaw  through  with  a  thorn?  Wilt 
thou  play  with  him  as  with  a  bird?  or  wilt  thou  bind 
him  for  tliy  maidens?  Canst  thou  fill  his  skin  with 
barbed  irons?   or  his  h^d  with //sA  spears?       Booko/jof.. 

^    Rule  IT.     Words   repeated   in   surprise   fake  the  rising 
inflection,  and  arc  emphatic. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.   Must  I  endure  all  this?    All  fins.'     Ax 


84  SCHOOL  KT.orrTiov. 

2.      CATIMNKS   UKPLY. 

^^ Banished  from  Rome!^    What's  banished  but  set  free 

]^>om  daily  contact  with  the  things  I  Idathel 

'^  Tried  ami  convicted  traitor  !^^     Who  says  thisT        ceolt. 

3.      SQCEERS. 

*'Who  cried  stop?^  said  Squeers,  turning  savagely 
round. 

"  J^,"  said  Nicholas,  stepping  forwaid.  Thin  must  twf 
(fo  onJ^ 

'^Must  not  go  dn!^^  cried  Squeers,  almost  in  a  shriek. 

^^Xo!^  thundered  Nicholas.  dukzhs. 

Call  OH  the  clctss  to  Jiml  fire  additional  illmttrations. 

Rule  III.  Words  and  phrases  of  address,  unless  nri/ 
pmphatir,  '"'-    ''"   slight  rising  infftrfifw. 

KX^iMPLKS. 

1.  Sir,  1  believe  the  hoiu*  has  c6me. 

2.  Mr.  President,  I  desire  to  offer  a  resolution. 

3.  Friends,  Romans,  countrymen^  lend  me  your  CcVrs. 

4.  Fellow-citizens,  the  time  for  action  has  c6me." 

5.  Good  friends,  swht  friends,  let  me  not  stir  you  up 
To  such  a  sudden  flood  of  mutiny. 

Call  on  each  pupil  to  find  one  additional  illustration. 
EXCEPTION. 

6.  O  comrades!  wdrriors!  Thrdcians!  if  we  w/ms^  fight, 
let  us  fight  for  ourselves. 

7.  Princes!  popentafes!  wdrriors! 

Rule  IV.  The  language  of  entreaty^  coaxing^  or  flai- 
teryy  takes  the  rising  inflection. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.      ARTHUR  IX  KING  JOHN. 

AMs,  what  need  you  be  so  boisterous-ro?/<7^  f 
I  will  not  struggle;  I  will  stand  stdne^stMl. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  85 

For  heaven^s  sake,  Hubert,  let  me  not  be  bound; 

Xay,  Mar  rae,  Hubert;  drive  but  these  nihi  awdi/j 

And  I  will  sit  as  quiet  as  a  Mmh; 

I  will  not  stir^  nor  wmce,  nor  speak  a  word, 

Nor  look  upon  the  iron  dngerhj: 

Thrust  but  these  m^n  awdij,  and  I'll  forgive  you, 

Whatever  torment  you  do  put  me  to.  SHAKi»Pi.vBE. 

2.      MRS.   caudle's  curtain  LECTURES. 

I. 
Now,  Caudle,  d6ar,  do  let  us  talk  comfortably.  After 
all,  love,  there's  a  good  many  folks  who,  I  dai'e  say, 
don't  get  on  half  so  well  as  we've  d6ne.  We've  botli 
our  little  tempers,  perhaps;  but  you  are  aggravating; 
you  must  own  that,  Caiidh'.  W^ell,  never  mind;  we  won't 
talk  of  it;  I  won't  scold  you  now. 

I'm  sure  1  don't  object  to  your  being  a  Mason;  not 
alt  dllj  Caudle.  I  dare  say  it's  a  ver}'  good  thing;  I  dare 
siiy  it  is:  it's  only  your  making  a  secret  of  it  that  vexes 
me.  But  you'll  tell  me — ^^'ou'll  tell  your  own  Margaret f 
You  wonHf     You're  a  icritch,  Mr.  Caudle.         hakeold. 

Rule  V.  Xegative  expressions^  ichether  of  words,  phrases, 
<'Iause4i,  or  sentences,  take  the  rising  inflection  when  they 
ntrry  the  attention  forward  to  a  contrasted  affirmation, 
or  backward  to  an  affirmative  statement. 

EX^V>iri.ES. 

1.  I  conic  not  here  to  talk.     -. 

Ye  know  too  will  the  story  of  our  thrdlldom, 

2.  The  battle,  sir,  is  not  to  the  strong  al6ne. 
It  is  to  the  v\gilant,  the  dative,  the  brdve. 

3.    Tell  me  not,  in  mournful  numbers. 
Life  is  but  an  empty  dream; 
For  the  soul  is  dead  that  slumbers, 
And  thinirs  drr  not  what  tlu'V  st^em. 


86  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

4.    I  come  not,  friends,  to  steal  away  your  hearts; 
I  am  no  orator,  as  Brutus  is:  il^ 
But,  as  you  know  me  all,  a  plain,  blunt  nuhi. 

7).    Cleon  hath  a  million  dcres — ^ne'er  a  ane  have  I'; 
Cleou  dwelleth  in  a  pAlace — in  a  coffage,  I'; 
Cleon  hath  a  dozen  fortunes — ^not  a  penny ^  I'; 
But  the  poorer  of  the  twain  is  C7^h,  and  not  Y . 

0.      FREEDOM. 

0  Freedom!  thou  art  not,  as  poets  dream, 

A  fair  young  girl,  ^Wth  light  and  deUcuite  Vnnhs, 

And  wavy  tresses  gushing  from  the  caj) 

With  which  the  Roman  master  crowned  Ins  alan^, 

When  he  took  off  the  gyves,  BP*    A  bearded  man, 

Armed  to  the  t^ethy  art  th(Su.  ukvam 

7.     THE  OCEAN. 

The  annaments  |  which  thunderstrike  the  walls  | 
Of  r(K*k-built  cities,  bidding  nations  quake, 
And  monarchs  |  tremble  in  their  capitals. 
The  ojik  leviathans,  whose  huge  ribs  make 
Their  clay  creator  |  the  vain  title  |  take  | 
Of  lord  of  thee,  and  arbiter  of  war;— 
These,  are  thy  toys,  and  as  the  snowy  flalce  \ 
They  melt  into  thy  yeast  of  waves,  wliich  mar  ] 
Alike  I  the  Amiada's  pride  |  or  spoils  of  Trafalgar. 

Byron. 
8.     LIBERTY. 

Tell  me  not  of  the  honor  of  belonging  to  a  free 
country.  iW  I  ask,  does  our  liberty  bear  generous  fruits  f 
Does  it  exalt  us  in  manly  spirit,  in  puUic  virtue,  above 
countries  trodden  under  foot  by  despotism? — Tell  me 
not  of  the  extM  of  our  country.  |y  I  care  not  how 
large  it  is,  if  it  multiply  degenerate  men.  Speak  not  of 
our  prosperity.  |y  Better  be  one  of  a  poor  people, 
plain  in  manners^  reverencing  God,  and  respecting  them- 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  87 

selves,  than  belong  to  a  rich  country,  which  knows  no 
lii.ri....-  .r-MKl  than  riches,  channino. 

9.      WHAT  CONSTITUTES  A  STATE  f 

What  constitutes  a  State? 

Not  high-raised  battlement  or  labored  mound. 
Thick  Wiill  or  moated  gate; 

Not  cities  proud  with  spires  and  turrets  crowned. 
Not  hays  and  broad-anned  portSj 

Where,  laughing  at  the  storm,  rich  names  ride: 
Not  starred  and  spangled  courts 

Where  low-bred  baseness  wafts  perfume  to  pride: 
Xo;  mhiy  high-minded  m4n;  men,  who  their  duties  know; 

But  know  their  rights;  and  knowing,  dare  maintain; 
Prevent  the  long-iiimed  blow. 

And  crush  tlie  tyrant  while  they  rend  the  chdin. 
Thlse  constitute  a  State.  jonk> 

Call  on  pupils  tf  Jijlld^(i(iJiiotial  exampUs.  i  /    ' 

'  /  fa '  T^^    ^  ^'^  ^  ^  ^  -^r> '  ^'"    y 

Hub.    \  J.    inipmplete  expressions^  whether  o^ phrases  ol^    o 
clauses,  when  they  carry  the  mind  forward  to  something  to 
I"     '   '   '  ■      fJie  rising  inflection. 

EXA3IPLi;S. 

1.  Born  to  inherit  the  most  illustrious  monarchy  in 
the  world,  and  early  united  to  the  object  of  her  choice^ 
the  amiable  jyrincesii,  happy  in  herself,  and  jo\^id  in 
her  future  prospects,  Uttle  anticipated  the  fate  that  was 
so  soon  to  nrrrtdke  her. 

2.     THE  PILGRIM  FATHERS. 

And  yet,  do  you  not  thinky  that  who  so  could,  by 
adequate  description,  bring  before  you  that  winter  of  the 
Pilgrims,  its  brief  sunshine,  the  nights  of  storm,  slow 
waning;  the  damp  and  icy  hrktth,  felt  to  the  pillow  of 
tlie  dying;  its  destitutions,  its  contrasts  with  all  their 
fonner  experience  in  life;  its  utter  insulation  and  loneli- 
dedth-heds  and  burial  n'mories: 


si 


SCHOOL    ELOCr  I  I 


prclu-nsions ;  its  hopes;  the  consultations  of  the  prudent; 
the  j^f'ffjjffs  of  the  pious;  the  occasional  cheerful  hymn, 
in  which  the  strong  heart  threw  off  its  burthen,  and, 
asserting  its  unvanquished  nature^  went  up,  like  a  bird 
of  dawn^  to   the   skies; — do  ye   not   think    that  whoso 

•ould  describe  them  calmly  waiting  in  that  defile,  lonelier 
and  darker  than  ThermopyhB,  for  a  mdrning  that  might 
never  dawn,  or  might  show  them,  when  it  did,  a  mightier 
arm  than  the  Persian,  raised  as  in  act  to  strike,  would 
lie  not  sketch  a  s*3ene  of  more  difficult  and  rarer  h^o- 
ismf    A  scene,   as  Wordsworth  has  said,  ^^mflanclwly, 

ea,  dismal,  yet  consolatory^  and  full  of  joy;^^  a  seine, 
even  better  fitted,  to  succor,  to  exalt,  to  Uad,  the  for- 
lorn hopes  of  all  great  causes,  till  time  shall  be  nd  more. 

Choatx. 
THE    STRIFE. 

Xotirc  that  the  Unil  jmu  ,siansa»  constitute  one  sentence. 

Tlio  wish  that  of  the  living  whole 

Xo  life  may  fail  beyond  the  grave — 
Derives  it  not  from  what  we  have 

The  likest  God  within  the  soulf 

Aro  God  and  nature  then  at  strife^ 

That  nature  lends  such  evil  dreams? 
So  cdreful  of  the  type  she  seems, 

80  careless  of  the  single  life, 

That  /,  considering  ever^'where 

Her  secret  meaning  in  her  deeds, 
And  finding  that  of  fifty  seeds 

She  often  brings  but  one  to  bear — 

I  falter  where  I  firmly  trod; 

And,  falling  with  my  weight  of  cares 
Upon  the  great  world's  a7^a>*-stairs, 

That  slope  through  darkness  up  to  God, 


SCHOOL    ELOCTTION. 

T  stretch  lame  hands  of  Jdith^  and  grope, 
And  gather  dust  and  chdff^  and  call 
To  what  I  feel  is  Lord  of  all, 

And  faintly  trust  the  larger  hope. 

Tennyson's  In 


4.      THE   LADDER  OP   ST.    AUGUSTINE. 

The  low  desire,  the  base  design, 
That  makes  another's  virtues  less; 

The  revel  of  the  treat^herous  wine, 
And  all  occasions  of  excess; 

The  longing  for  ignoble  things, 

The  strife  for  triumph  more  than  truth; 

The  hardening  of  the  heart  that  brings 
Irreverence  for  the  dreams  of  youth; 

All  thouglits  of  ill;   all  evil  deeds 

That  have  their  root  in  thoughts  of  iU; 

Wliatever  hinders  or  impedes 
Tlie  action  of  the  noble  will, — 

All  these  must  first  be  trampled  d6wn 
Beneath  our  feet,  if  we  would  gain 

In  the  bright  fields  of  fair  renown. 

The  right  of  eminent  domMn.  LoNomtow. 


Rule  VIL  Conditional  phraser  and  clauses,  when  in- 
troductory^  take  the  rising  inflection)  because  the  sense  is 
carried  forward  to  the  principal  statements  on  which  they 
depends 

EXAMPLES. 

1.      KUOM    ''THE   ARMORY." 

Were  half  the  power  that  fills  the  world  with  terror; 

Were  half  the  wealth,  bestowed  on  camps  and     '     ' 
Given,  to  redeem  the  human  mind  from  h^ror, 

There  were  no  M^e<f  of  arsenals  or  f6rts.         LoxorBtLow. 


90  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

2.     PROM   "JITLIDS  CMSAB..^ 

As  Caesar  loved  me,  I  w^ep  for  him;  as  he  was  fortn- 
natej  I  rejoice  at  itj  as  he  was  mlianfj  I  honor  hint;  but, 
as  he  was  amhitious^  I  slhc  him.  There  is  tears  for  his 
love;  joy  for  his  fortune;  honor  for  his  v&lor;  and 
death  for  his  ambition. 

3.      WATER. 

Of  all  inorganic  suhstanceHy  acting  in  their  own  proper 
nature,  and  without  assistance  or  comhimition,  miter  is 
the  most  wonderful.  If  we  think  of  it  as  the  sourc^e  of 
jiU  the  changefulness  and  beauty  which  we  have  seen 
in  clouds;  then  as  the  instrument  by  which  the  eartli 
we  have  contemplated  was  modeled  into  symmetry,  and 
its  crags  chiseled  into  grace;  then,  as  in  the  form  of 
snow,  it  robes  the  mountains  it  has  made  mth  that 
transcendent  light  which  we  could  not  have  conceived  if 
we  had  not  s^en;  then  as  it  exists  in  the  foam  of  the 
torrent — in  the  iris  which  spans  it,  in  the  morning  mist 
which  •rn^'s  from  it,  in  the  deep  crystalline  pools  which 
mirror  its  hanging  shore,  in  the  broad  Idl'e  and  glancing 
river;  finally,  in  that  which  is  to  all  human  minds  the 
best  emblem  of  unwearied,  unc6nquerable  power,  the  wild, 
various,  fantastic,  tameless  ttnity  of  the  sea;  what  shall 
we  compare  to  this  mighty,  this  universal  element,  for 
glory  and  for  beauty  f  or  how  shall  we  follow  its  eternal 
cMngefuhiess  of  feeling  t     It  is  like  trying  to  paint  a 

SM.  RlSKlN. 

4.      FROM  WEBSTER'S  SPEECHES. 
I. 

If  disastrous  tvdr  sweep  our  commerce  from  the  ocean, 
another  generation  may  renew  it;  if  it  exhaust  our  treas- 
ury, futiu-e  industry  may  replenish  it;  if  it  desolate  and 
lay  waste  our  fields,  stiQ,  under  a  new  cultivation,  they 
will  grow  grhn  again,  and  ripen  to  future  harvests, 

II. 

If  discord  and  disunion  shall  wound  it;  if  party  strife 


SCHOOL    ELO(  i  91 

and  ))liiul  ambition  shall  huwli  at  and  tiar  itj  if  folly 
and  mcidnesSy  if  uneasiness  under  salutary  restraint,  shall 
succeed  to  separate  it  from  that  Union,  by  which  alone 
its  existence  is  made  siire,  it  will  stand,  in  the  end,  by 
the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its  infancy  was  rocked; 
it  will  stretch  forth  its  arm  with  whatever  of  vigor  it 
may  still  retain,  over  the  friends  who  gather  round  it; 
and  it  will  fdU,  if  fall  it  miist,  amid  the  proudest  mon- 
Hinents  of  its  gl^ry  and  on  the  very  spot  of  its  origin. 

licquire  each  pupil,  at  the  next' lesson,  to  read  one  additional  illus- 
f ration,  selected  from  some  extract  in  this  hook. 

RuU     Vlll.      In   pihii*     iii.-,i  t  (plioHj    H'hdlni'  of  piosi    or 

rrrse^  the  prevailing  inflection  is  the  slight  rising  inflection 
of  the  "  thirds'' 

K\.A.Mll.i:>. 
I.      FROM  WHITTIER's   "  RANGER." 

Nowhere  f^er,  sweeter,  rarer. 
Does  tlie  golden-locked  fruit-bearer. 

Through  his  painted  woodlands  stray, 
Than  where  hillside  oaks  and  beeches 
Overlook  the  long,  blue  r^hes. 
Silver  c6ves  and  pebbled  beaches, 

And  green  isles  of  Casco  B^y: 

Nowhere  day,  for  delay. 
With  a  tenderer  look  beseeches, 

"Let  me  with  my  charmed  earth  siky.^ 

2.     WATER. 

Gleaming  in  the  dew-drop,  singing  in  the  summer  rain, 
shining  in  the  ice-gem  till  the  trees  seem  turned  to 
living  jewels,  spreading  a  golden  v6il  over  the  setting 
sun,  or  a  wliite  gauze  around  the  midnight  moon;  sport- 
ing in  the  ciitanwt,  sleeping  in  tlie  glacier,  dancing  in 
the  h/iil-sliower,  folding  briglit  8n6w-curtains  softly  a))ov(^ 
the  wintry   \N('»rl<l.  and  weaving  the  many-colored  iris. 


92  sriKxji.    r.i.ofi   riON. 

that  seraph's  zone  of  tlie  sky,  whose  warp  is  the  riiin 
of  earth,  whose  w6of  is  the  sunbeam  of  heaven,  all 
checkered  over  with  celestial  flowers  by  the  mystic  hand 
of  rarefaction — still  always  it  is  l>eautifid,  that  blessed 
cold  water!  No  poison  bubbles  on  its  brink — its  foam 
brings  not  madness  and  murder — no  blood  stains  its  liquid 
glass — pale  widows  and  starving  6ii)hans  weep  not  burn- 
ing tears  in  its  clear  depths — no  drunkard's  shrieking 
ghost  from  the  gr4ve  curses  it  in  words  of  despto! 
Spe<jk  duty  my  friends;  would  you  exchange  it  for  the 
demon's  drink — alcohol  f" 
A  shout  like  the  roar  of  the  tempest  answered  *^Nd! 

^O^r  DKKTU.v 

.   3.      THE  VOICE  OP  BPBINO. 

The  fisher  is  out  on  the  sunny  s<5a; 

And  the  reindeer  bounds  o'er  the  pasture  fr^; 

And  the  pine  has  a  fringe  of  softer  green, 

And  the  moss  looks  bright,  where  my  f6ot  hath  been. 

From  the  streams  and  founts  I  have  loosed  the  cMin. 

They  are  sweeping  on  to  the  silvery  main. 

They  are  flashing  down  from  the  m6untain  brows. 

They  are  flinging  spray  o'er  the  f6rest  boughs, 

They  are  bursting  fresh  from  their  sparry  caves; 

And  the  earth  resounds  w^th  the  joy  of  wkves. 

IIemans. 

Biile  IX.    Pathos   and  tender  feeling  incline  the  voice 
to  the  slight  rising  inflection'. 

EXA3IPLES. 

1.      BABIE  BELL. 

And  what  did  dainty  Babie  B^U? 
She  only  crossed  her  little  hands! 
She  only  looked  more  meek  and  fair! 
We  parted  back  her  silken  hair; 
We  laid  some  buds  upon  her  brow — 
Death^s  bride  arrayed  in  flowers!  alprich. 


•J.      THE   KAXOER. 

When  the  shadows  vail  the  meadows, 
And  the  sunset's  golden  Mders 

Sink  from  twilight's  walls  of  gr&y — 
From  the  window  of  my  dreaming, 
I  can  see  his  sickle  gleaming, 
Cheery-voiced  can  hear  him  teaming 

Down  the  locust^shaded  wAy; 

But  away,  swift  aw4y, 
Fatles  the  fond,  delusive  seaming,         ^ 

And  I  kneel  again  to  pr^y.  wiir^Tirn. 

Rule  X.  In  a  series  of  words  or  phrases,  if  the  par- 
ticuhtrs  enumerated  are  unimportant,  or  if  they  are  to  he 
taken  as  constituting  a  xchole^  each  particular,  except  the 
last  in  a  closing  series^  takes  the  risina  iiifJcrfion. 

EX^VatPLES. 

1.  The  siin,  the  pl4nets,  their  satellites,  the  c6mets, 
and  the  meteors,  compose  the  solar  system. 

2.  The  solar  system  "consists  of  the  siih,  the  pldnets, 
their  satellites,  the  c6mets,  and  the  meteors. 

3.  The  minerals  of  California  are  gold,  silver,  c6pper, 
iron,  tin,  and  quicksilver. 

4.  Wh^at,  fl6ur,  p<Srk,  b^ef,  c6tton,  tob&cco,  and  petrcS- 
leum  are  exported  from  the  United  States. 

5.    The  G6th,  the  Christian,  Time,  War,  Flood,  and  Fire, 
Have  dealt  upon  the  seven-hilled  city's  pride. 

6.      CHRISTMAS  MARKETS. 

Heaped  upon  the  fl6or,  to  form  a  kind  of  thr6ne, 
were  turkeys,  g^se,  gtoe,  brAwu,  grcAt  joints  of  m^at, 
sucking-pigs,  long  wreaths  of  sAusages,  mince-pies,  plum- 
puddings,  barrels  of  6yster8,  red-hot  (jhestnuts,  cherry- 
cheeked  Apples,  juicy  6ranges,  luscious  pears,  immense 
twdlfth-c&kes,  and  great  bowls  of  p^mch.  ihouim. 


04  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

7.      BOABDING-RCHOOL  CUKRICULUM. 

And  thus  their  studies  they  pursi^ed: — On  Sunday, 

B^f,  c611ectK,  better,  t^xts  from  Dr.  Price; 
Mutton,  Frencli,  pancakes,  gr^imar — of  a  Monday; 

Tuesday — ^hard  dumplings,  gl61)es,  Chapone's  Advice. 

"Wednesday — fancy-work,  rice-milk  (no  spice); 
Thursday — pork,  dancing,  currant-b61sters,  reading; 

Friday,  beef,  ^Ir.  Butler,  and  plain  rice; 
Saturday — scnips,  short  lessons  and  short  feeding, 
Stacks,  bacjk-boards,  hash,  8teel-c611ars,  and  good  billing. 

IIo«»i». 

8.  FROM  DICKENS'S   "CHRISTMAS  CAROL." 

It  was  a  ganu*  called  Yes  and  No,  where  Scrooge^s 
nephew  had  to  think  of  something,  and  the  rest  must 
find  out  what;  he  only  answering  to  their  questions  yes 
or  no,  as  the  case  was.  The  fire  of  questioning  to 
which  he  was  exposed  elicited  from  him  that  he  was 
thinking  of  an  animal ,  a  Vive  animal,  rather  a  disagree- 
(ihle  animal,  a  savage  animal,  an  animal  that  growled  and 
(fnhifed  sometimes,  and  tailed  sometimes,  and  lived  in 
Lo  ml  Oily  and  walked  about  the  sir  Ms,  and  wasn't  made 
;i  show  of,  and  wasn't  led  by  anybody,  and  didn't  live 
in  a  menagerie,  and  was  never  killed  in  a  mdrkefy  and 
^^^s  not  a  horsey  or  an  ass,  or  a  c4Wy  or  a  hilly  or  a 
tiger  J  or  a  dog,  or  a  pigy  or  a  r-'if.  or  a  hear. 

9.  FROM  DICKEXS'S  "CHRISTMAS  CAROL.'' 

Sitting-room,  bedroom,  lumber-room,  all  as  they  should 
l)e.  Nobody  under  the  table;  nobody  under  the  s6fa; 
a  small  fire  in  the  grate;  spoon  and  basin  ready;  and 
the  little  saucepan  of  gruel  (Scrooge  had  a  cold  in  his 
head)  upon  the  hob.  Nobody  under  the  bed;  nobody 
in  the  closet;  nobody  in  his  dressing-gown,  which  was 
lianging  up  in  a  suspicious  attitude  against  the  wall. 
Lumber-room  as  lisu^.  Old  fire-guard,  old  shoes,  two 
fish-biiskets,  washing-stand  on  three  legs,  and  a  p5ker. 


SCIT<»<>|     II I  i)N.  \fiy 

v'       II.     THE  i''ALLi.NU   INFLECTION. 

1.  The  fitUivq  iuffrrfion  ix  fh^  sVt'h  nf  f]i,-  miiiphlf 
stafemenL 

2.  It  is  the  characteristic  inflection  of  .assertion^  of 
ronfldence,  of  command^  of  emotion^  and  of  pasaion, 

'.\.  It  denotes  what  is  important,  interesting^  or  derisire^ 
If  is  the  prevailing  inflection  of  impressive  oratory. 

Rules  for  the  Falling  Inflection. 

Bule  I.  The  close  of  a  declarative^  imperative ^  or  ex- 
rlamatory   sentence   is   generally   marked   hy   the  falling 

KXAMPLBS. 

I.  The  liberty  of  the  press  is  the  highest  safeguard 
in  all  free  government.  It  is  like  a  great,  exiiltinir,  and 
abounding  river. 

2.    Maud  Muller,  on  a  smnnier's  di'iy, 
Raked  the  meadow  sweet  with  hky. 

3.  Ye  cr^gs  and  peaks,  I'm  ivith  you  once  agdin! 
I  hold  to  you  the  hands  you  first  beheld, 

To  show  tliey  still  are  free.     Methinks  I  lioar 
A  spirit  in  your  echoes  answer  me, 
And  bid  your  tenant  welcome  to  his  home 
Again!     O  sacred  forms,  how  proud  ye  look! 
I  low  h)gh  you  lift  your  heads  into  the  sky! 
How  huge  you  are!   how  m)ghty  and  how/r^<?/ 

Rule  II.  The  answer  f<>  <>  direct  question  generally 
f'ff:-     "     filling  inflection^ 

KXAMTLKS, 

1.     .\r(     you  going  to  School?  ///. 

2.    Sludl  traitors  lay  that  greatness  low! 

No!   land  of  l.-'n..  ....-j  i.i, .<<;,...    ..;. 


96  sen  (.JUL     KJ.tji    !    T  i  .  .V  . 

EXCEPnO^^^. 

Answers  given  in  a  careless  or  an  indifferent  manner 
sometimes  take  the  rising  inflection^  a.sy 

l.^What  do  you  wkitt     N6tliing. 

2.  Which  will  you  htivet     I  don't  c6re. 

3.  What  did  you  sdyt     Not  much. 

4.  May^  I  stay  heref     Y^s,  you  may  if  you  like. 

5.  Out  spoke  the  ancieut  fisherman :  **  O  what  was  that, 
my  daughter?" 

"'Twas  nothing  but  a  pebble,  sir,  I  threw  upon  tlx' 
wdter." 

"And  what  is  that,  pray  tell  me,  love,  that  paddles 
off  so  t^iV    . 

"It's  n6tlung  but  a  porpoise,  sir,  that's  been  a  swim- 
ming p&st." 

Rule  111.  Impassioned  exclanntiion  or  very  emphatic 
assertion  is  characterized  by  the  falling  infle/'tiotu-^tsuallif 
the  fifth  or  eighth. 

IFalling  Fifth.'\ 

1.  Ehe,  fellow-m^n,  our  cotintry  yet  remains. 

2.  Clearness,  f6rce,  and  earnestness  are  the  qualities 
which  produce  conviction. 

3.  Eloquence  is  action,  noble,  subUmey  godlike  action. 

4.  Strike — till  the  last  armed  foe  expires; 
Strike — ^for  your  dltars  and  your  fires; 
Strike — for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires, 
God — and  your  native  land! 

[_Fa11tng  Eighth. — Emotional.^ 

5.  O  horrible!   0  horrible!  most  horrible! 

6.  O  my  prophetic  soul!   my  iincle! 


f^riroDi,   KT-ocuTiON.  97 

7.  We  heard  the  piercing  shi'iek  of  murder!  murder! 
mitrdfr! 

S.  I  have  done  my  duty: — I  stand  acquitted  to  my 
conscience  and  my  conntry: — I  have  opposed  this  measure 
throuijhdut;  and  I  now  protht  against  it  as  hdrsh,  op- 
prhsivCj  uncdlled  for,  unjustj — as  establishing  an  infamous 
precedent  by  retaliating  crime  against  crtmey — as  tyran- 
nous— cruelly  and  vindictively  tyrannous. .  otonnkii.. 

9.  The  mustering  place  is  Lanrick  mead, 
t^peed  forth  the  signal,  Norman,  speed; 
Her  summons  dread  brooks  no  deldyj 
Stretch  to  the  rdce — awdy^  awdy! 

10.  Thy  threats,  thy  mercy,  I  defy, 
Let  recreant  yield  who  fears  to  d)e. 

11.  ('an  naught  but  blood  our  feud  atone  f 
Are  there  nS  means?"    Ndy  stranger,  none. 

y     Ji'nh    1\.     Indit*rt  iiu^stuHis  and  very  emphatic  dirxt 
questions  generally  take  the  falling  inflection^ 

Interrogative  sentences  beginning  with  wlw,  whichj 
when,  ivherCy  why,  and  how,  generally  take  the  falling 
inflection.  A  direct  question  if  repeated  a  second  or 
third  time,  frequently  takes  the  falling  inflection  for 
empha,sis. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  What  constitutes  a  Stdtef 

2.  Wliat  is  it  that  gentlemen  tclsht 
•\.   When  was  he  grdduatedf 

4.  Why  do  you  not  study  your  Ussanf 

'       Speak  louder;    I   did   not  hear  your  question." 
••  Aro  you  going  to  Bdston  f " 

(>.  <)   "svhy  should  the  spirit  of  mortal  be  pr6udt 

7 


!W  ROHOOi,   i;l()<  1   ri(»N'. 

7.  "Di)  you  hear  the  rditij  Mr.  Caudle!  I  s^y,  do  you 
hear  the  rdinf  Do  you  Mar  it  against  the  windows  t 
Do  you  Mar  it,  I  s^yf     Oh!  you  d6  h^ar  it!" 

^  Rule  V.  ('(fttipletenesft  of  thought  or  expressiofi,  whether 
in  the  clauses  of  a  complejc  sentence,  or  in  the  propositions 
of  a  compound  sentence^  generally  requires  the  falling  in- 
ffrrfinn. 

EXAMPLES. 
1.     DEAD   HEROES. 

They  fell  |  devoted,  but  undoing; 
Tlie  very  gdle  \  their  names  seemed  sighing; 
The  waters  |  murmured  of  their  name; 
The  woods  \  were  peopled  with  their  fdme; 
The  silent  pillar,  lone  and  gray, 
Claimed  l)ndre4  \  with  their  sm'red  cldy: 
Their  spirits  |  wi*apped  the  dusky  mountain, 
Their  memory  \  sparkleil  o'er  the  fountain; 
The  meanest  rill,  the  mightiest  rivevj 
Rolletl  mingling  |  with  their  fame  forh^er. 

Btbon. 


2.      .  .-  'M   goldsmith's   ''DESERTED  VILLAGE. 

Imagination  fondly  stoops  to  trace 
The  parlor  splhidor  of  that  festive  plkce: 
The  wliitewashed  wall,  the  nicely  sanded  floor, 
The  varnished  cldck  that  cUcked  behind  the  door 
The  chest,  contrived  a  double  debt  to  pay, 
A  bed  by  night,  a  chest  of  drawers  by  day; 
The  pictures  placed  for  ornament  and  iise, 
The  twelve  good  rules,  the  royal  game  of  goose; 
The  hearth,  except  when  winter  chilled  the  day. 
With  aspen  houghs  and  flowers  and  fennel  gay; 
Wliile  broken  teacups,  wisely  kept  for  show, 
Ranged  o'er  the  chimney,  glistened  in  a  row. 


v,{'}Jl^^^^      K  I   «  u  ■  T'  r  T  ON.  99 


It  has  lengtheued  Ufe;  it  has  mitigated  pdin;  it  has 
I'xtinguished  diseases;  it  has  increased  the  fertility  of 
the  soil;  it  has  given  new  securities  to  the  mdriner;  it 
lias  furnished  new  arms  to  the  warrior;  it  has  spanned 
gi'cat  rivnn'is  and  estuaries  with  hndfjea  of  form  unknown 
to  our  fathers;  it  has  guided  the  thunderbolt  innocuously 
from  heaven  to  e^h;  it  has  lighted  up  the  night  with 
the  splendor  of  the  dAy;  it  has  extended  the  range  of 
the  hunuin  rlsioit ;  it  has  multiplied  the  power  of  the 
human  muscles;  it  has  accelerated  motion;  it  has  anni- 
hilated distance;  it  has  facilitated  Intercourse^  correspond- 
ence^ all  friendly  offices^  all  dispatch  of  hiisiness;  it  has 
enabled  men  to  descend  to  the  depths  of  the  sea,  to 
soar  into  the  dir;  to  penetrate  securely  into  the  noxious 
recesses  of  the  edrthj  to  traverse  the  land  in  cars  which 
whirl  along  without  horses,  and  the  ocean  in  ships  which 
run  ten  knots  an  hour  against  the  wind.  ^        macaulay. 

4.      FREEDOM. 

I  love  FrMom  better  than  Sldvery.  I  will  speak  her 
words;  I  will  listen  to  her  mhsic;  I  will  acknowledge 
her  Impulses;  I  will  stand  beneath  her  fldg ;  I  -svill  fight 
in  her  rdnks;  and,  when  I  do  so,  I  shall  find  myself 
surrounded  by  the  (jr>at,  the  wisCy  the  good,  the  hrdve, 
the  noble  of  every  Idnd.  ^\..^  bakbr. 

5.      CHOATE's   ErL<)<iY   ON  WEBSTER. 

We  seem  to  see  Ais  fortn  and  hear  his  dSep,  grdve 
speech  her y where.  By  some  felicity  of  his  personal  l\fe; 
by  some  wi.se,  deep,  or  beautiful  word  sp6ken  or  written; 
by  some  service  of  his  <^tcn,  or  some  commemoration  of 
the  s(»r\nces  of  others,  it  has  come  to  p6ss  that  "our 
granite  h)lls,  our  inland  skts,  prdiries,  and  fresh,  un- 
l)ounded,  magnificent  wilderness ;^^  our  encircling  ocean; 
tlie  resfnni.,,J,i,:  <»f  ti...   />w,.,./m.v.'  f)iir  new-born  sister  of 


100  RCHOOL    FJ.OCt^TION'. 

the  Pacific;  our  popular  (Ls.iuublii.s;  our  frh  schools; 
all  our  cherished  doctrines  of  educMion,  and  of  the 
iiiliueuce  of  reVKjioHj  and  national  policy  and  Uhr^  and 
tlu'  Constitution,  give  us  back  Ms  mhne.  What  American 
landscape  will  you  look  on;  what  subject  of  American 
interest  will  you  stitdi/;  what  source  of  hope  or  of 
anxiety,  as  an  American,  will  y<»u  nrlnnUrhiho .  that  it 
does  not  recdll  himt 

Rule  VI,  In  commencing  a  series  of  emphatic  partii  a- 
larSy  each  particular  except  the  la^t  takes  the  slight  falling 
inflection  of  thf  "  third, ^^  and  in  a  concluding  series,  each 
/larfirular  except  the  hist  hut  one  fults  fhf  inlVnig  inflec- 
tion, 

KXAMPLKS. 

1.  The  dir,  the  larth,  the  wiittr  t^'cm  with  <leliirht<Ml 
existence. 

2.  VMor,  humanity,  courtesy,  justice,  and  h6nor,  were 
the  characteristics  of  chivalry. 

3.  The  ministers  of  religion,  the  priests  of  literature, 
the  historians  of  the  pdst,  the  illustrators  of  the  prhent, 
<  (Ipital,  science,  art,  invention,  discoveries,  the  works  of 
ijt'nius — (ill  these  wiU  attend  us  in  our  march,  and  we 
shall  cdfiquer.  bakeb. 

4.  The  characteristics  of  chivalry  were  v^or,  humanity, 
coiirtesy,  justice,  and  honor. 

5.      A   TROPICAL   SCENE. 

The  mdtmtmn  wooded  to  the  peak,  the  la^mis 
And  winding  glUdes  high  up  hke  ways  to  heaven, 
The  slender  coco's  drooping  crown  of  plumes, 
The  lightning  flash  of  insect  and  of  Inrd, 
The  luster  of  the  long  convolvuluses 
That  coiled  around  the  stately  stems,  and  ran 
Even  to  the  limit  of  the  land,  the  glows 
And  glories  of  the  broad  belt  of  the  icorld, 


t 


SCHOOL    LliUCL  i/H-lN,.    ,     ,.    ,  101 

All  thhe  he  *'()*r;   but  what  he  fain  had  seen 

He  tduld  not  s5e,  the  kindly  human  face^ 

Nor  ever  hear  a  kindly  vdicBy  but  heard 

The  myriad  shriek  of  wheeling  bcean-iovfl, 

The  league-long  roller  thundering  on  the  rhf^ 

The  moving  whisper  of  huge  trhs  that  branched 

And  blossomed  in  the  zenith^  or  the  sweep 

Of  some  precipitous  rivulet  to  the  w^ve, 

As  down  the  shore  he  ranged,  or  all  day  long 

Sat  often  in  the  seaward-gazing  gorgej 

A  shipwrecked  sailor j  waiting  for  a  sdil; 

No  sail  from  dag  to  day^  but  every  ddy 

Tha  sunrise  broken  into  scai'let  shafts 

Among  the  palms  and  ferns  and  precipices  j 

The  blaze  upon  the  waters  to  the  east; 

The  blaze  upon  his  hland  overhead; 

The  blaze  upon  the  waters  to  the  west; 

Then  the  great  stars  that  globed  themselves  in  heaven, 

The  hollower-bellowing  ocean j  and  again 

The  scarlet  shafts  of  siinrisey — hut  no  sdil. 

Tennyson's  Enoch  Ardem. 
UXUSTRATION. 

The  contrast  in  the  rendering  of  a  series  with  the 
rising  inflection  and  the  iinemphatic  tone  of  indiffer- 
ence, or  with  the  falling  inflection  and  the  emphasis  of 
feeling,  is  illustrated  by  the  following: 

The  one  with  yawning  made  reply: 
"What  have  we  seent     Not  much  have  I! 
Trees,  meadows,  m6untains,  grtWes,  and  streams, 
Blue  sky,  and  clouds,  and  sunny  gleams.'' 

The  other,  smiling,,  said  the  same; 

But,  \\ath  face  transfigured  and  eye  of  flame: 

**  Trk^j  m^adoicsy  mountainsy  graves^  and  strkatns, 

Blue  sky   <in(1     '      ^    .ind  sunny  gUatns!^ 


102  Rr.HooT,   r  !,n(  rriox. 

Rule  Vll.  The  cadeiiccy  or  jailing  injkction  at  the 
end  of  a  sentencej  must  not  he  made  too  ahrupihj. 

The  closiug  descent  in  tone  at  the  end  of  a  sentence 
falls  lower  than  the  faUin^j^  inflection  at  the  end  of  the 
propositions  that  make  up  a  compound  sentence,  and 
lower  than  the  slide  on  emphatic  words  or  clauses. 
The  longer  the  sentence,  the  more  marked  is  the  cadence. 
The  common  errors  in  cadence  are:  (1)  Dropping  the 
tone  suddenly  on  the  last  word  of  the  sentence.  (2) 
Falling  too  soon  in  the  sentence.  (3)  A  gradual  dimin- 
ishing in  force  towards  the  end  of  a  sentence,  so  that 
the  last  few  words  are  feebly  uttered.  (4)  A  monoto- 
nous stimeness  of  inflection. 

The  difference  between  the  pai'tial  falling  inflection  in 
the  body  of  a  sentence  and  the  cadence  at  the  close, 
must  be  illustrated  by  tlie  living  voice  of  the  teacher. 
Take  the  followinir  s«»nt<MHM»  froTn  A<l<Hs<»]i  for  illus- 
tration : 

"Our  sight  is  the  most  perfect  and  most  delightful 
of  all  our  senses.  It  fills  the  mind  with  the  largest 
variety  of  id^as^  converses  with  its  objects  at  the  great- 
t'st  d)sfoncey  and  continues  the  longest  in  action  without 
being  tired  or  satiated  with  its  proper  enjoymentsJ^ 

Here  the  slide  on  "ideas"  and  "distance"  is  the  partial 
falling,  say  the  falling  third,  while  the  cadence  on  "enjoy- 
ment" runs  to  the  falling  fifth.  It  will  be  noticed,  also, 
that  the  voice  slides  upward  on  "action,"  to  prepare  for 
the  cadence  at  the  close  of  the  sentence. 

EXA3rPLES. 

1.  I  have  done  my  duty;  I  stand  acquitted  to  my 
conscience  and  my  country;  I  have  opposed  this  meas- 
ure throughout;  and  I  now  protest  against  it,  as  harsh, 
oppressive,  uncalled  for,  unjust;  as  establishing  an  infa- 
mous precedent,  by  retaliating  crime  against  crime;  as 
tyrannous — cruelly  and  vindictively  tyrannous." 


103 

:!.    Ill  fares  the  huiil,  lo  liasttiiiiig  ills  a  prey, 
^V^lere  wealth  aeeumiilates  and  men  dec^y: 
Princes  and  lords  may  flonrish,  or  may  fMe — 
A  breath  can  make  them,  as  a  breath  has  made: 
But  a  bold  peasantry,  theu*  country's  pride, 
When  once  destroyed,  can  uever  be  suppVied, 

:>.    Goil  of  the  earth's  extended  plkins! 

The  dark  green  fields  contented  lie: 
The  mountains  rise  like  lioly  towers, 

Where  man  might  commune  with  the  sky; 
The  tall  cliff  challenges  the  storm 

That  lowei-s  upon  the  vale  below, 
Wliere  shaded  fountains  send  their  streams, 

With  joyous  music  in  their  flow. 

Rule  I.    When  negation  is  opposed  to  affirmation,  nega- 
tion has  the  rising,  and  affinnution  the  falling  inflection. 

Contrasted  uords  (ir>    <  mphatie. 

KXAMVLKS. 

1.  He  did  not  call  you,  but  me. 

2.  He  called  you,  not  me.  ,^^ 
*].   He  called  neither  you  nor  m^. 

-\.   Man  never  Is,  but  always  to  hi  blest. 

5.      JOHN    HOWARD. 

He  visited  all  Europe — not  to  survey  the  sumptuous- 
ness  of  palaces,  or  the  stateliness  of  temples;  not  to 
make  accumte  measurements  of  the  renniins  of  ancient 
grdndeuit,  nor  to  fonn  a  sctde  of  the  curiosities  of  modern 
drt^  nor  to  collect  medals,  or  collate  manuscripts ;  but 
to  dive  into  the  depths  of  ditngeons,  to  plunge  into  the 
infeetion  of  hospitals,  to  survey  the  mansions  of  sorrow 
")in ;  to  take  the  gauge  and  dimensions  of  nnsery, 
v/o>;.   and    ronfnHid:   to  rmu'inlHT  tlir    foi'ifotten,  to 


104  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

attend  to  the  mgUctedy  to  visit  the  forsdkmj  and  com- 
pai-e  and  collate  the  distresses  of  all  men  in  all  countries. 
His  plan  is  orujinal;  it  is  as  full  of  ghiius  as  of  hmmhiity. 
It  was  a  voyage  of  discovery — a  circumuavdgation  of 
ch(irity. 

Rule  II.  When  the  conjunction  on  .f//f /»»,,.>  ,,,„(, asted 
words  or  phrases^  it  is  preceded  by  the  rising,  and  fol- 
lowed by  the  falling  inflection.  Contrasted  words  arc 
emphatic. 

KXA31PLKS. 

1.  Did  he  call  Jane  or  Mdryf 

2.  Is  this  book  yours  or  nunef 

3.  Sink  or  swim,  live  or  d)ey  surrir*  «»v  ,nr!^li  !  jixr 
my  hand  and  my  he^irt  to  this  vot< 

4.  Do  we  mean  to  carry  6n  or  to  give  up  the  war? 
Require  an  additioual  example  from  each  pupil. 

Rule  HI.  Contrast  or  antithesis  is  denoted  by  opposite 
inflections  on  the  contrasted  words  of  a  sentence^  and  the 
contrasted  words  are  emphatic. 

Pupils  should  be  cautioned  against  the  common  fault 
of  substituting,  in  examples  of  contrast,  the  circumflex 
inflections  for  the  direct  rising  and  falling  inflections. 
The  following  example  is  often  incorrectly  read  thus: 

1.  In  the  one  we  most  admire  the  man;  in  the  other, 
the  work. 

It  should  be  read  as  follows: 

2.  In  the  ofie  we  most  admire  the  man;  in  Jhe  other, 
the  work. 

3.  Incorrect:   As  is  the  beginning,  so  is  the  end. 

4.  Correct:   As  is  the  beginning,  so  is  the  end. 

5.  Incorrect:    What  we  gain  in  jyower  is  lost  in  time. 

6.  Correct:   What  we  gain  in  power  is  lost  in  fime. 


^'    " '    '   •>■    ■  TTON.  105 

The  cireumtiex  luilt'i'tiuus  are  properly  applied  in 
cases  of  very  emphatic  contrast,  or  in  the  expression  of 
irony,  stircasm,  wit,  and  humor. 

Selection  3,  at  the  end  of  this  chapter,  affords  good 
illustrations  of  contrasted  circumflex,  while  selections  1, 
2,  and  5  are  examples  of  the  use  of  the  direct  rising 
and  fidling  inflections. 

"A  fault  of  local  usage,  prevailing  throughout  New 
England,"  says  Prof.  Russell,  '4s  that  of  giving  all  em- 
phi^sis  with  the  tone  of  the  circumflex.  It  is  a  tone 
incompatible  with  simplicity  and  dignity  of  expression, 
and  belongs  properly  to  irony  or  ridicule,  to  the  peculiar 
significance  of  words  and  phrases  embodying  logical  or 
grammatical  niceties  of  distinction,  or  to  the  studied  and 
peculiar  emphasis  which  belongs  to  the  utterance  of  a 
word  intended  to  convey  a  pun.  This  fault  would  be 
avoided  by  giving  emphasis  with  the  direct  inflection, 
instead  of  the  circumflex. 

EXAMPLES    OF   CONTRAST. 

1.  I  said  goody  not  Md;  virtuouSy  not  vicious;  Plicated, 
not  ill  iterate. 

2.  He  spoke  for  education,  not  against  it. 

3.    After  the  showery  the  tranquil  skn; 
Silver  stars  when  the  ddy  is  done. 
After  the  snow,  the  emerald  leaves; 
After  the  harvest,  golden  sheaves; 
After  the  clouds^  the  violet  skj/; 
Quiet  woods  when  the  w)nds  go  by. 
After  the  t^mpesty  the  lull  of  wh'es; 
After  the  battle,  peaceful  grdres. 
After  the  knell,  the  whlding-heUs; 
Joyful  grMings  from,  sad  farewells. 
Aftt*r  the  hud,  the  radiant  rose; 
After  our  weeping  sw^of  ,.^n;.^v. 


106  ^c  II  (  H  .  I.     r  !,<  »<    ITK  (X. 

filter  tlie  buriUuj  the  blisstiil  meed;*' '^^^^^ 
After  the  furrow^  the  waking  sheT. 
After  the  flight,  the  downy  nest; 
,        Beyond  the  shadowj'  rher — rht 

4.  Thus  tlie  Puritan  was  made  up  of  two  different 
mhn :  the  one,  all  self-abasement,  penitence,  gratitude,  pas- 
sion; the  other,  pr6ud,  cMm,  inflexible,  sagacious.  He 
prostrated  himself  in  the  dust  before  his  Maker:  l»nt 
he  set  liis  foot  on  the  neck  of  his  A-i/i<7. 

5.      ROME  AND   CARTHAOK. 

The  catastrophe  of  this  stupendous  drama  is  at  h^nd. 
Wliat  actors  are  m^t!  Tw6  rdces — that  of  ni4rchunts 
and  mdritiers,  that  of  laborers  and  soldiers;  two  nations 
— the  one  dominant  by  gold,  the  other  by  steel;  two 
repitblics — the  one  theocratic,  the  other  dristocratic.  Rome 
and  Cdrthage!  Rome  with  her  army,  Carthage  with  her 
fleet;  Cdrthage,  old,  rich,  and  crafty — Rome,  young,  poor, 
and  robust;  the  past,  and  the  future;  the  spirit  of  dis- 
cik'ery,  and  the  spirit  of  conquest;  the  genius  of  commerce, 
the  demon  of  war;  the  East  and  the  South  on  one  side, 
the  West  and  the  North  on  the  other;  in  short,  two 
worlds — the  ci^dlization  of  Africa,  and  the  civilization 
of  Europe.  victob  higo. 

6.  I  have  always  preferred  cheerfulness  to  mirth.  The 
Idtter  I  consider  as  an  act,  the  former  as  a  h<ibit  of  the 
mind.  Mtrth  is  short  and  transient,  cheerfulness  fixed, 
and  permanent.  Mirth  is  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  that 
breaks  through  a  gloom  of  clouds,  and  glitters  for  a 
moment;  cheerfulness  keeps  up  a  kind  of  daylight  in  the 
mind,  and  fills  it  with  a  steady  and  perpetual  serenity. 

7.      THE  OXE-HOSS  SHAY. 

For  the  wheels  were  just  as  strong  as  the  thills. 
And  the  floor  was  just  as  strong  as  the  sMls, 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


107 


And  the  pdufh  just  as  strong  as  the  flhor^ 

And  the  irhipph'-tree  neither  less  nor  more, 

And  the  back  crossbar  as  strong  as  the  fore, 

And  spring,  and  axle,  and  hub  encore, 

And  yet,  as  a  whole,  it  is  past  a  doubt 

In  another  hour  it  will  be  worn  out!  holmi«. 

8.      DUST   TO   DUST. 

"Earth  to  Mrth,  and  diist  to  dustr* 

Here  the  ^inl  and  the  jusfy 

Here  the  youthful  and  the  ohlj 

Here  the  fearful  and  the  hold, 

Here  the  matron  and  the  mdid,  ^^ 

In  one  silent  bed  are  laid; 

Here  the  vassal  and  the  k)ng 

Side  by  side  lie  withering; 

Here  the  sword  ftnd  scepter  nist — 

"Earth  to  earth,  and  dust  to  dust!"      cbolv. 

I).      HUDIBRAS. 

He  was  in  logic  a  great  critic, 

Profoundly  skilled  iu  anal/jtic. 

He  could  distinguish  and  divide 

A  hair  -twixt  south  and  south-west  side; 

On  either  which  he  woidd  dispute, 

Confute,  change  hands  and  st)ll  confute. 

He'd  undertake  to  prove  by  force 

Of  argument  a  mdn^s  no  horse; 

He'd  prove  a  buzzard  is  no  fowl. 

And  that  a  lord  may  be  an  6wl; 

A  calf  m\  dlderman,  a  goose  a  jAsticey 

And  rooks  committee^inen  and  frusteeif. 

He'd  run  in  debt  by  disputation, 

And  pay  with  ratiocination.  Birri.r.R. 

10.      TACT  AND  TALENT. 

1  ike  them  into  the  church.    Talent  has  always  some- 
timig  worth  h^aring^  tact  is  sure  of  abundance  of  hSarers; 


108  SCHOOF.     i;  I.oc  L.'TION. 

talent  may  oMdin  a  living,  tact  will  mdke  one;  talent 
gets  a  good  name,  taot  a  gretU  onej  talent  convinces^  tact 
convMs;  talent  is  an  honor  to  the  profession,  tact  gdins 
honor  from  the  profession.  Take  them  to  court.  Talent 
feels  its  weight,  ttvct  finds  its  wdy;  talent  commands, 
tact  is  obeyed;  talent  is  honored  with  approMtion,  and 
tact  is  blessed  by  preferment. 


Rule  IV.     Direct  questions  generally  require  the  n.snig 
inflection,  and  their  answers,  the  falling  inflection. 

KXAMPUBS. 

1.   Have  you  studied  your  lesson  f    Yes. 
"_'     Ai     you  going  to  New  York!    N6. 

3.  OUB  COUNTRY. 

Oh,  country,  marvel  of  the  ^arth! 

Oh,  realm  to  sudden  greatness  grown! 
The  age  that  gloried  in  thy  birth, 

Shall  it  behold  thee  overthrown? 
Shall  traitors  lay  that  greatness  low! 
Nd\  Land  of  H6pe  and  Blessing,  No! 

BRTAirr. 

4.  THE  INQUIRY. 

T^ll  me,  my  secret  soul. 

Oh,  tell  me,  Hope  and  Fdith, 
Is  there  no  resting-place 

From  sorrow,  sin,  and  death? 
Is  there  no  happy  sp6t 

Where  mortals  may  be  blessed, 
Where  grief  may  find  a  balm, 
And  weariness  a  rest? 
Faith,  Hope,  and  Love — best  boons  to  mortals  given — 
Waved  their  bright  wings,  and  whispered  "  Yes,  in  heaven !" 

Mackat. 


SCHOOL    KLuClTIoN.  ^      100 

5.      FROM    "hamlet." 

Uitmht.     Hold  you  the  watch  to-night t 

Mar.  and  Ber.     We  rfo,  my  lord. 

Hamlet.    Armed,  say  y6u? 

Mar.  and  Ber.    Armed,  my  16rd. 

Hamlet.     From  top  to  toef 

Mar.  and  Ber.     My  lord,  from  head  to  foot. 

Hamlet.    Then  you  saw  not  his  facet 

Hor.     Oh,  yes,  my  16rd;   he  wore  his  beaver  up. 

Hamlet.     What,  looked  he  frownhigli/f 

Hor.    A  countenance  more  in  sorrow  than  in  miger. 

Hamlet.    Pale  or  rklf 

Hor.    Nay,  very  pdle. 

Hamlet.     And  fixed  his  eyes  upon  you! 

Hor.     Most  constantly. 

Hamlet.    I  would  I  had  been  th^re. 

ffor.    It  would  have  much  amdzed  you.       shamspiark. 


III.    INFLECTIONS  OF  THE   PARENTHESIS. 

Rule  I.  The  words  included  in  a  parenthe^'iis,  or  be- 
tween two  dashes  used  as  a  parenthesis,  and  any  phrase 
correspond inff  in  effect  to  a  parenthesis,  are  read  with  the 
same  inflection  as  the  clause  immediately  preceding  them. 

A  lower  and  less  forcible  tonej  and  a  more  ra^ii^ 
utterance,  than  in  the  other  parts  of  a  sentence,  together 
with  a  degree  of  monotony,  are  required  in  the  reading 
of  a  parenthesis.  The  form  of  parentliesis  implies  some- 
tliing  thrown  in  as  an  interruption  of  the  main  thought 
in  a  sentence.  Hence  its  suppressed  and  hurried  tone; 
the  voice  seeming  to  hasten  over  it  slightly,  as  if  impa- 
tient to  resume  the  principal  object.  The  same  remark 
applies,  with  more  or  less  force,  to  all  intervening 
phra.ses,  whether   in   the   exm't  form   of  parenthesis  or 

not"  BWKLU 


no  SCHOOL    KLOriTloX. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  Uprightness  is  a  habit,  and,  like  all  other  habits, 
gains  strength  by  time  and  exercise.  If  tlien  we  exer- 
cise upright  principles  (and  we  cannot  have  them,  unless 
we  Exercise  th^m),  they  must  be  perpetually  on  the 
increase. 

2.  "And  this,"  said  hv — putting  the  remains  of  a 
crust  into  his  w411et — "and  this  should  have  been  fhff 
portion,^^  said  h^,  "  hadst  thou  been  alive  to  have  shared 
it  with  me." 

3.    To  my  mind — though  I  iini  native  here. 
And  to  the  manner  b6rn — it  is  a  custom 
More  honored  in  the  breach  than  the  observance. 

SHAKEXrRARK. 

SrMMARY  OF   Inflection. 

1.  The  stronger  the  empha.siSj  the  longer  the  sliihs. 

2.  In  nnimpassioned  reading ^  the  emphasis  is  .slight 
and  the  slides  are  short:  in  hold  and  dignified  composi- 
tion^ the  emphasis  is  stronger  and  the  slides  are  longer: 
and  in  highly  impassioned  or  dramatic  reading,  fhr  mt- 
phasis  is  strongest  and  the  slides  are  longest. 

3.  The  general  pnnciple  that  underlies  all  the  rules  of 
inflection  is  as  follows:  The  rising  inflection  in  general 
denotes  incompleteness  of  statement j  comparatively  unim- 
portant statement y  interrogation^  or  negation;  the  falling 
inflection  denotes  completed  or  emphatic  statement.^ 

General  Inflection  Drill. 

1.  Sing  the  scale,  upward  and  downward. 

2.  Substitute  in  place  of  the  note  names  the  long 
vocals,  thus:  a,  e,  i,  6  ti,  a,  e,  6. 

3.  Sound   the    third,    fifth,  and    eighth    notes   of    the 


iMN'.  in 

scjiU*;    then   suljsUiuM-   i«m    u,.     ikm.     imihos  tho  foUowillfj::^ 

;.  Give  the  long  vowel  sounds,  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  (1)  with 
till-  rising  "second;"  (2)  with  the  rising  "third;"  (3) 
with  the  rising  "fifth;"  (4)  with  the  rising  "eighth." 

5.  Give  the  long  vowel  sounds^  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  with  the 
falling  "second,"  "third,"  "fifth,"  and  "eighth." 

6.  Give  the  long  vowel  sounds,  a,  e,  I,  o,  ii,  with  the 
lising  wave  of  the  "third;"  of  the  "fifth;"  of  the 
•  octave;"  the  fnllinsr  wave  with  the  same  degrees. 


IV.    THE  CIRCUMFLEX  INFLECTION. 

The  circumflex,  or  wave,  is  a  combination  of  the  rising 
and  falling  inflections  on  the  same  word  or  sound. 

The  rising  circumflex  ends  with  the  rising  inflection, 
and  is  denoted  thus  {^);  the  falling  circumflex  ends 
with  the  downward  slide,  and  is  marked  thus  ( ^ ). 

The  circumflex  is  more  emphatic  than  the  direct  rising 
and  falliug  inflections.  The  circumflex  may  be  divided 
into  the  distinctive  and  the  emotional. 


I.    The  Distinctive  Circumflex  of  the  Third. 

The  distinctive,  or  unimpassioned,  circumflex  occurs 
wlicn  the  voice  rises  or  falls  through  the  intervjd  of  the 
third.  It  is  the  characteristic  inflection  of  good-natured 
raillery,  of  humor,  and  of  wit.  It  is  used  in  express- 
ing a  pun,  or  a  play  upon  words.  It  expresses  a  double 
nieuniug,  or  a  doulile  relation.  It  carries  the  mind  back 
to  something  that  has  been  stiid,  or  forward  to  some- 
thing to  he  siiid.  This  form  of  circumflex  is  a  delicate' 
wave  of  the  voice,  and  is  very  expressive ;  but  great  care 
sliould  be  taken  not  to  overdo  it.  Carried  to  excess, 
it  }>••<•< .ni..<  ridiculous. 


112  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

II.    Inflection  Drill. 

1.  Sound  the  long  vocals,  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  with  the  slight 
ri^ng  circumflex  of  the  third:  with  the  slight  falling 
circumflex. 

2.  Count  from  one  to  twenty,  with  thf  sliglit  rising 
circumflex;   with  the  falling  wave  of  the  third. 

3.  It  isn^t  the  secret  I  care  about,  Mr.  Caudle.  It's 
the  slight. 

4.  Do  you  hear  the  rain,  Mr.  Caudle  T 

5.    When  lawyers  take  what  they  would  give. 
And  doctors  give  what  they  would  take. 

6.  I  should  do  Brutus  wrong,  and  Cassius  wrong, 
Who,  you  all  know,  are  h&norahle  mm. 

7.  Men,  bideed !  call  themselves  lords  of  creation ! 
Pretty  ISrdSj  when  they  can't  even  take  care  of  an  urn- 
brma  ! 

8.  Let  any  man  resolve  to  do  right  nMc^  leaving  tMn 
to  do  as  it  can;   and  if  he  were  to  live  t«  the  age  of 

QfethlselaJ^  he  would  never  do  wrong.  But  the  com- 
mon error  is^to  resolve  to  act  right  after  breakfast,  or 
after  dinner,  or  to-morrow  morning,  or  next  time.  But 
ndic,  just  iww,  this  6nce,  we  must  go  on  the  same  as 
ever. 

III.    Emotional  Circumflex. 

The  emotional  circumflex  occurs  when  the  voice  rises 
or  falls  through  an  interval  of  the  fifth  or  the  eighth. 

It  is  the  wave  of  irony,  sarcasm,  scorn,  contempt, 
hatred,  revenge,  astonishment,  or  amazement.  It  is  the 
inflection  of  very  strong  emphasis. 

The  rising  circumflex  occurs  where,  otherwise,  the 
direct  rising  inflection  would  be  used;  and  the  falling 
wave  where,  otherwise,  the  falling  slide  would  be  applied. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  113 

I\'     Inflection  Drill. 

1 .  Sound  the  long  vocals,  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  with  the  rising 
rircuniflex  of  the  fifth;  with  the  falling  circumflex. 

2.  Repeat,  five  times,  with  surprise,  the  words,  "(f^/ 
II deed  r  with  the  rising  circumflex  of  the  fifth. 

3.  Gone  to  be  married!  gone  to  swear  a  peace! 

4.  Hath  not  a  Jew  hdndSy  organs,  dimensions^  senses, 
nfffvtions,  passions  f 

5.  Repeat,  with  irony  and  the  falling  wave  of  the 
fifth,  the  expression,  "I  idld  you  s6." 

6.  Sound  the  long  vocals,  a,  e,  I,  o,  u,  with  the  rising 
wave  of  the  eighth;  the  falling  wave  of  the  eighth. 

7.  Repeat,  five  times,  with  the  greatest  possible  aston- 
ishment, the  following:  ah!  indeed!  is  it  (rile! 

8.  O  noble  judge!   O  Excellent  young  man! 

9.  M!  by  St.  Bride  of  BothweU,  no! 

10.    Soars  thy  presumption  then  so  highj 
Because  a  wretched  kern  ye  slew, 
Homage  to  name  to  Roderick  Bhnf 

\.    Examples  op  the  Distinctive  Circumflex. 

The  distinctive  circumflex  is  the  delicate  wave  of  the 
voice,  generally  of  the  rising  or  falling  third,  indicative 
of  mirth,  fun,  wit,  humor,  and  good-natured  raillerj-. 
In  the  following  examples,  be  careful  not  to  overdo  the 
inflection  or  the  emphasis. 

EXAMPUSS. 

1.      THE  DEBTOR. 

A  dibtor  is  a  man  of  mdrk.  Many  hjes  are  flxed  upon 
him;  many  have  interest  in  his  well-being;  his  move- 
ments  are  of  c<mch^;  he  can  not  disappear  unhMed, 


114  ?:rTTOOT.    rT.OCt'TION. 

his  name  is  in  many  mouths;  his  name  is  upon  many 
bools;  he  is  a  man  of  note — of  promissory  notej  he  fills 
the  specuMiion  of  many  minds;  men  conjecture  about 
him,  wdnder  about  him — woniler  and  conjecture  whetht»r 
he  will  p^iij.  He  is  a  man  of  consequence,  for  many  arc 
rdnninfj  after  him.  His  door  is  thronged  with  dihis. 
He  is  inquired  after  everj'  hour  of  the  day.  Judges  hear 
of  him  and  know  him.  Every  nmtl  he  swdllowSj  every 
cSat  he  puts  upon  his  hdck,  every  dollar  he  borrows, 
appears  l)efore  the  country  in  some  formal  dorumenf. 
Compare  Ms  notoriety  with  the  obscure  lot  of  the  cred- 
itor^-oi  the  man  who  has  nothing  but  cMims  on  the 
world;  a  Idndlord,  or  futul-holdor,  or  some  siich  disa- 
irroeablc.  Imnl  chikravter. 

2.      FALSTAFF'S  INSTINCT. 

Why,  I  kn{'w  ye  as  well  as  he  that  made  ye.  Why, 
hear  me,  my  masters:  was  it  for  mS  to  kill  the  Mir- 
apparent  f  Shoidd  I  turn  upon  the  true  2)rincef  Why, 
thou  knowest  I  am  as  valiant  as  Hercules;  but  beware 
instinct;  the  lion  will  not  touch  the  true  prince;  instinct 
is  a  great  matter;  I  was  a  c&ward  on  instinct.  I  shall 
think  the  better  of  myself  and  thee  during  my  lifei;  / 
tor  a  valiant  /row,  and  thou  for  a  tnie  prince. 

AFP^S  HONOR. 

How  tMnf  Can  /wnor  set  a  legf  No.  Or  an 
arm?  No.  Or  take  away  the  grief  of  a  wound!  No. 
Honor  hath  no  skill  in  surgery ,  thenf  No.  What  is 
honor?  A  word.  What  is  that  word!  Air.  A  trim 
reckoning!  Who  hdth  it?  He  that  died  o'  Wednesday. 
Doth  he  feel  it?  No.  Doth  he  hear  it?  No.  Is  it 
/^sensible,  then?  Yea,  to  the  dead.  But  will  it  not  live 
with  the  living?  No.  A\Tiy?  Detraction  will  not  suffer 
it;  therefore  I^U  none  of  it. — Honor  is  a  mere  ^scutcheon 
— and  so  ends  niv  catechism. 


SCTiOin,    1  !.«>(  i   1  MtN.  115 

4.      PORTIA,    IK   THE  MERCHANT   OF  VENICE. 

If  to  do  were  as  easy  as  to  know  wliat  were  good  to 
«lo,  chapels  had  been  chiircheSj  and  poor  men's  cottages 
priiK^es'  pdlaces.  It  is  a  good  divine  that  follows  his 
«»wn  instructions.  1  can  easier  teach  twenty  what  were 
lood  to  be  done  than  be  one  of  tlie  twenty  to  follow 
mine  own  tedching.  The  brain  may  devise  laws  for  the 
l)lo()d;  but  a  hot  temper  leaps  over  a  cold  decree;  such 
a  hare  is  madness,  the  youth,  to  skip  o'er  the  meshes 
of  good  counsel,  the  cripple.  But  this  reasoning  is  not 
ill  the  fashion  to  choose  me  a  hitshand.  O  me!  the 
word  choosel  I  may  neither  choose  whom  I  wouldj  nor 
ivfuse  whom  I  dislike;  so  is  the  wiU  of  a  living  daughter 
curbed  by  the  wiU  of  a  dead  fdther.  Is  it  not  hdrd, 
Xerissa,  that  I  can  not  fliooso  one.  nor  refuse  nonef 

5.      ROMEO   AND   JULIET. 

Jul.   Oh  I  swear  not  by  the  mooUj  the  inconstant  nwon 
That  monthly  changes  in  her  circled  orb; 
Lest  that  thy  love  prove  Itkemse  variable. 

Rom.   What  shdll  I  swear  byT 

Jul.   Do  not  swear  at  dll; 
Or,  if  thou  wilt^  swear  by  thy  gracious  s^Z/, 
Which  is  the  god  of  my  idolatry, 
And  I'll  believe  thee. 

6.     NELLY  GRAY. 

O,  NeUy  Gray!   O,  NeUy  Gray! 

Is  this  your  love  so  wdrm! 
The  love  that  loves  a  scarlet  coat 

Should  be  more  ihiiform!  hood. 

7.      THE  witch's  daughter. 

Her  ni6ther  only  killed  a  coWj 

Or  witched  a  chum  or  dairy-pan; 

But  shf^  forsootli,  must  charm  a  mdn,     wiumu. 


116  f^riTooT.   riofTTTOX. 

8.      CONTENTMENT. 

TMtle  I  dsli;   my  wants  are  p^r : 

I  only  wish  a  hut  of  stone 
(A  very  plain  brown  stone  will  do). 

That  I  may  caU  my  men; 
And  close  at  hand  is  such  a  one, 
In  yonder  street  that  fronts  the  sun. 

I  always  thought  cold  \dctual  nh-p. 
My  choice  would  be  vanilla-ice. 

I  only  ask  that  fortune  send 

A  little  more  than  I  can  sphid.  n    , 

0.      AUXT  TABITHA. 

Whatever  I  do,  and  whatever  I  say. 
Aunt  Tabitha  teUs  me  that  isn^t  the  way. 
When  sM  was  a  girl  (forty  summers  ago). 
Aunt  Tabitha  tells  me  they  never  did  s6. 

HOLMUI 

VI.    Examples  op  Emotional  Circumflex. 

The  emotional  circumflex  runs  into  the  fifth  and 
eighth,  and  requires  strong  emphasis.  This  form  of  the 
circumflex  is  expressive  of  sarcasm,  irony,  astonishment, 
revenge,  and  hatred. 

EXA3IPLBS. 

1.      FROM  DICKENS'S   ''CHRISTMAS  CAROL." 

"Let  me  hear  another  sound  from  yow,"  said  Scrooge, 
"and  you ^11  keep  your  Christmas  by  losing  your  situa- 
tion. You're  quite  a  powerful  speal'er,  sir/'  he  added, 
turning  to  his  nephew.  "I  wonder  you  don't  go  into 
Pdrliament.^ 

2.      KING  JOHX. 

TJmi  wear  a  lianas  hide?     Doff  it  for  shdme, 
And  hang  a  ^<^/ 7/- skin  on  those  recreant  limbs. 


SCHOin.    ELOCUTION.  117 

3.      CORIOLANUS. 

Mias unless  liar!   thou  liast  made  my  heart 

Too  great  for  what  contains  it. 

Bdj/ !    Cut  me  to  pieces^  V61scians;  men  and  Idds^ 

Stain  dll  your  edges  on  me.     Boy! — 

If  you  have  writ  your  annals  true,  'tis  tMre 

That,  like  an  eagle  in  a  dovecot,  I 

Fluttered  your  Volscians  in  CorioU: 

AUn4>.  I  did  it.     Boy! 

4.      SHYLOCK. 

If  it  will  feed  nothing  els€y  it  will  feed  my  revenge. 
He  hath  disgi*aced  me,  and  hindered  me  of  hdlf  a  mill-, 
ion;  laughed  at  my  losceSy  mocked  at  my  gdins,  scorned 
my  mUioUj  ihwarted  my  Mr  gains,  c6oled  my  friends, 
heated  my  hiemies.  And  what's  his  riasonf  I  am  a 
Jew!  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyesf  Hath  not  a  Jew  hands, 
organs,  dimensions,  senses,  affections,  passions  ?  Is  he  not 
fed  with,  the  same  food,  hurt  with  the  same  weapons, 
subject  to  the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the  same  means, 
warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same  summer  and  mnter,  as 
a  Christian  isf  If  you  stab  us,  do  we  not  bleed f  If 
you  ttckle  us,  do  we  not  laugh  f  If  you  poison  us,  do 
we  not  dkf    And  if  you  wrong  us,  shall  we  not  revhigef 

5.      SCHOOL  FOR  SCAXOAL. 

Sir  J\ft  r.  Very  well,  ma'am,  very  w^l;  so  a  husband 
is  to  have  no  influence,  no  duthorityf  ^ 

Lady  Teazle.  Authority !  Xd,  to  be  sure;  if  you 
wanted  authority  over  mS,  you  should  have  adopted  me, 
and  not  married  me;   I'm  sure  you  were  did  enoiigh. 

Sir  Peter.  Old  enough !  ay,  there  it  (s.  Wm,  wRl, 
\A\i\y  Teazle,  tlu>ugh  my  life  may  be  made  unhappy  by 
your  tamper,  I'll   not  be   ruined   by  your   extravagance. 

Lady  Teazle.  My  extravagance!  Sir  Peter,  am  J  to 
blame  because  flowers  are  dl^ar  in  cold   urathrf    You 


118  Sf'HOOT.     Fi   o.    I     r  !  (>X. 

should  find  fault  with  the  rlimatc,  and  not  with  mf. 
For  my  part,  I  ^m  sure,  I  wish  it  was  spring  all  the 
year  round,  and  that  r6ses  grew  under  our  f^t. 

Sir  Peter.  Zounds!  Madam,  you  had  no  Mste  when 
you  married  n\e. 

Lady  Teazle.  That^s  very  Mf,  indeed,  Sir  Peter; 
and  after  having  married  yda,  I  should  never  pretend  to 
taste  aguiny  I  all6w. 

6.      OTHELLO. 

lago.    My  noble  lord 

Othello.    What  dost  thou  say,  lagof 

logo.  Did  Michael  Cassio,  when  you  wooed  my  lady, 
hiSw  of  your  lovet 

Othello.  He  did,  from  first  to  last.  Why  dost  ilmu 
dskt 

lago.     But  for  a  satisfaction  of  my  thought; 
No  further  h^rm. 

Othello.    Why  of  thy  thdught,  lago? 

lago.    I  did  not  think,  he  had  been  acquainted  with  her. 

Othello.    O  yes;   and  went  between  us  very  oft. 

lago.     Indeed  f 

Othello.  Indeed!  ky,  indeed: — Discem^st  thou  aught 
in  that?    Is  he  not  honest? 

lago.     HSnestj  my  16rdT 

Othello.     Ay,  honest. 

lago.     My  lord,  for  aught  I  know. 

Othello.    Vhat  dost  thou  thud-  f 

lago.     Thinl'j  my  lord? 

Othello.     TJnnky  my  lord?    By  heavens!  he  echoes  me, 
As  if  there  were  some  monster  in  his  thought 
Too  hideous  to  be  shown.     Thou  dost  mean  something. 

7.      FROM  THE   ''honeymoon." 

Julia.     I  will  go  home ! 

Dtike.    You  dre  at  home  already. 


SCHOOL    ELOOl'TloN.  11!) 

.//'//'/.     I'll  not  uidnrr  it! — But  reraonilu'i-  this — 
Duko  or  no  diike,  I'll  be  a  dAchess,  sir' 

J)iike.     A  duchess!    You  shiill  be  a  qutcn — to  ail 
Who,  by  the  courtesy,  will  citll  you  so. 

Julia.    And  I  will  have  atUndance! 

Duke.     So  you  shdlly 
When  you  have  learned  to  wait  upon  yourself. 

Jul  in.     '\\^  wait  upon  myself!     Must  I  bear  tMst 

Duke.    Excellent! 
How  well  you  sum  the  duties  of  a  wife! 
'Why,  what  a  blessing  I  shall  h(h'p  in  you! 

Julia.    A  blessing? 

Duke.     When  they  talk  of  yim  and  me. 
Darby  and  Joan  shall  no  more  be  remembered: — 
We  shall  be  happy! 

Julia.     Shall  we? 

Duke.     Wondrous  happy! 
Oh,  you  will  make  an  ddmirctble  wife! 

Julia.    I  will  make  a  rtxen. 

Duke.     Whdt.^ 

Julia.    A  very  rixen. 

Duke.    Oh,  n<}!    We'll  have  n6  vixens . 

Julia.     I'll  not  bear  it! 
I'll  to  my  fdther's! —  tobin. 

V.  THE  MONOTONE. 

The  monotone  is  one  uniform  tone,  which  neither  rises 
nor  falls  in  piteh  above  or  below  the  general  level  of 
the  sentence.  I  It  is  a  continuous  flow  of  sound,  corre- 
sponding, in  sonu^  dcgi*ee,  U)  the  chanting  tone  in  vocal 
music.  J  (it  is  generally  associated  with  loic  pitch  and  slow 
movement.)  When  the  voice  is  under  the  influence  of 
awe  or  horror,  tlic  monotxme  strikes  up<m  the  mv  lik  ■ 
the  recurring  pulsiitions  of  a  deep-toned  bell. 


120  SCfHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

The  monotone  is  the  natural  expression  of  voice  when 
tlie  feelings  are  under  the  influence  of  awe,  adoration, 
reverence,  sublimity,  grandeur,  or  horror. 

"Grandeur  of  thought  and  sublimity  of  feeling,"  says 
Tower,  "are  always  expressed  by  this  movement.  The 
rffect  produced  by  it  is  deep  and  impressive.  When 
its  use  is  known,  and  the  inile  for  its  application  is 
clearly  understood,  the  reading  will  be  characterized  by 
a  solemnity  of  manner,  a  grandeur  of  refinement,  and 
a  beauty  of  execution,  which  all  will  acknowledge  to  be 
in  exact  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  Nature,  and 
strictly  within  the  pale  of  her  laws.'' 

The  monotone,  one  of  the  most  effective  tones  in 
elocution,  must  not  be  confounded  with  monotony^  one 
of  the  worst  faults  in  school  reading. 

There  is  one  form  of  monotone,  prevailing  in  the 
poetry  of  sentiment,  that  is  not  combined  with  low  pitch. 
This  may  be  called  poetic  monotone,  as  contrasted  with 
the  monotone  on  a  low  pitch,  which  may  be  termed 
I  rave  monotone. 

In  poetic  monotone,  the  key  is  not  necessarily  lower 
than  the  middle  pitch,  though  there  is  always  something 
of  the  suppressed  force  of  pathos  and  sentiment.  In 
examples  of  the  poetic  monotone,  the  slight  or  suspen- 
sive rising  inflection  takes  the  place  of  monotone. 

I.    Inflection  Drill  on  the  Monotone. 

1.  Repeat,  five  times,  the  long  vowel  sounds,  a,  e,  i,  o,  u. 

2.  Count,  in  low  pitch  combined  with  monotone,  from 
one  to  twenty,  thus:   one,  two,  three,  etc. 

3.  RoU  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean,  roll! 
Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain. 

•i.   An  ancient  time-piece  says  to  all — 
Forever — never ! 
Never — forever ! 


121 


II.    Examples  of  Poetic  Monotone. 

1.      FROM    POE'S    "raven." 

Then,  methought,  the  air  grew  denser,  perfumed  from 

an  unseen  censer 
Swung   by    Seraphim,   whose   footfalls    tinkled   on    the 

tufted  floor. 
This  I  sat  engaged  in  guessing,  but  no  syllable  expressing 
To  the  fowl,  whose  fiery  eyes  now  burned  into  my  bosom's 

core; 
This  and  more  I  sat  divining,  with  my  head  at  ease 

reclining 
On    the    cushion's    velvet    lining    that    the    lamp-light 

gloated  o'er, 
But    whose    velvet    violet    lining    with    the    lamp-light 

gloating  o'er 

She  shall  press,  ah,  nevermore ! 

2.      FROM    ''THE   CLOSING   SCENE." 

Long,  but  not  loud,  the  droning  wheel  went  on. 

Like  the  low  munnur  of  a  hive  at  noon; 
Long,  but  not  loud,  the  memory  of  the  gone 

Breathed  through  her  lips  a  sad  and  tremulous  tune. 
At  last  the  thread  was  snapped:   her  head  was  bowed; 

Life  dropped  the  distaff  through  liis  hands  serene, — 
And  loving  neighbors  smoothed  lier  careful  shroud. 

While  Death  and  Winter  closed  the  autumn  scene. 

Bkau. 
^.      3.      PASSING  AWAY. 

While  yet  I  looked,  what  a  change  there  carae!^ 

Her  eye  was  quenched,  and  her  cheek  w^s  wan; 
Stooping  and  staffed  was  lier  withered  frame, 
Yet  just  a.s  busily  swung  sl^e  on. 
The  garland  beneath  her  had  fallen  to  dust; 
The  wheels  above  her  were  eaten  vrith  rust; 


122  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

The  hands,  that  over  the  dial  swept,  v. 

Grew  crooked  aud  tamisheil,  but  on  they  ko])t; 

Andg|till  there  came  that  silver  tdne 

Fi'oTrt  the  shriveled  lips  of  the  to<ithless  cront* — 
Let  me  never  forget,  to  my  dying  day, 
The  tone  or  the  burden  of  that  lay — 
^*  Passing  away!    Passing  airat/!"^ 

PiKRPOST. 

in.    Low,  OB  Grave,  Monotone. 

The  low,  or  gjave,  monotone  is  pitched  on  the  lower 
notes  of  the  voice.  It  is  indicated  by  the  macrons 
placed  over  the  vowels: 

1.     AL£XAKDEB'S  FEAST. 

He  chose  a  mournfiU  milse, 

Soft  pity  to  infuse: 

He  sung  Darius  great  and  good. 

By  too  severe  a  fate. 
Fallen,  fallen,  fallen,  fallen, 

Fallen  from  his  high  estate, 
And  weltering  in  his  blood. 

2.      THE  SEA. 

Break,  break,  break, 

On  thy  cold  gray  stones,  O  Sea! 
And  I  would  that  my  tongue  could  utter 

The  thoughts  that  arise  in  me. 

O  weU  for  the  fisherman's  boy. 

That  he  shouts  with  his  sister  at  play! 

O  well  for  the  sailor  hid, 

That  he  sings  in  his  boat  on  the  bay! 

And  the  stately  ships  go  on 
To  their  haven  under  the  hill; 


S('H()()T>     T.L")<    ITION.  123 

But  O  for  tlie  touch  of  a  vanished  haud, 
And  tlie  sound  of  a  voice  that  is  still ! 

Break,  break,  break,  ^ 

At  the  foot  of  thy  crags,  O  Sea! 
But  the  tender  grace  of  a  day  that  is  dead 

Will  never  come  back  to  me.  TENNTSi>N. 

3.     DEATH. 

Leaves  have  their  time  to  faU, 
And  flowers  to  wither  at  the  north- wind's  breath, 

And  stars  to  set — biit  all, 
Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  O  Death! 

Hemans. 
4.      DRIFTING. 

Prom  the  strong  Will,  and  the  Endeavor 

That  forever 
Wrestles  with  the  tides  of  Fate; 
From  the  wreck  of  Hopes  far  scattered, 

Tempest-shattered, 
Floating  waste  and  desolate  j — 

Ever  drifting,  drifting,  drifting 

On  the  shifting 
Currents  of  the  restless  heart; 
Till  at  length  in  books  recorded, 

They,  like  hoarded 
Household  words,  no  more  depart.        LoKorEitow. 

5.     THE  BATTLE. 

Heavy  and  solemn, 

A  cloudy  column, 
Through  the  green  plain  they  marching  came — 

Measureless  spread,  like  a  table  dread. 
For  the  wild,  grim  dice  of  the  iron  game* 


124  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Looks  are  l)ent  on  the  shaking  ground, 
11  rails  l>eat  low  \v'ith  a  knelling  sound; 

Jjjpift  by  the  breast  that  must  bear  the  brunt, 

^Qlops  the  major  along  the  front. 

And  fettered  they  stand  at  the  stark  command, 
And  the  warriors,  silent,  halt.  scmilleb. 

6.      THE  PRISONER  OP  CmLLON. 

For  all  was  blank,  and  bleak,  and  gray; 

It  was  not  night — it  was  not  day; 

It  was  not  even  the  dungeon  light, 

So  hateful  to  my  heavy  sight — 

But  vacancy  absorbing  space. 

And  fixedness — without  a  pMkje; 

There  were  no  stars — no  earth — no  time — 

No  check — no  change — no  good — no  crime — 

But  silence,  and  a  stirless  breath 

Which  neither  was  of  life  nor  d^ath: 

A  sea  of  stagnant  idleness — 

Blind,  boundless,  mfite,  and  m(^tionless.         bvh.,.n. 

7.  What  this  grim,  ungainly,  ghostly, 
G^aunt,  and  ominous  bird  of  yore 
Meant  in  croaking  "Nevermore." 

8.    To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow, 
Creeps  in  this  petty  pace  from  day  to  day, 
To  the  last  syllable  of  recorded  time; 
And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lighted  fools 
The  way  to  dilsty  death.     Out,  out,  brief  candle! 
Lifers  but  a  walking  shadow;  a  poor  player, 
That  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage, 
And  then  is  heard  no  more:   it  is  a  tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  fiill  of  sound  and  fury, 
Signifying  nothing. 


f;rTTooT.   rT.ori'TTON'.  125 

!•.    TiiK  ocE.^^^ 

Thou  glorious  mirror,  where  the  Almighty's  fonn 
Glasses  itself  in  tempests;  in  aU  time,  M 

Calm  or  conviilsed,  in  breeze,  or  gale,  or  stonnf 
Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime 
Dark-hea^^ng — ^boundless,  endless,  and  sublime; 
The  image  of  Eternity — the  throne 
Of  the  Invisible;  even  from  out  thy  slime 
The  monsters  of  the  deep  are  made;   each  zone 
Ob^ys  thee;  thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless  alone 

Byron. 
10.      SONG  OP  THE  SHIRT. 

Work — work — work ! 
Tin  the  brain  begins  to  swim; 

Work — ^work — work ! 
Till  the  eyes  are  heavy  and  dim! 
Seam,  and  gusset,  and  band, 

Band,  and  gilsset,  and  seam. 
Till  over  the  buttons  I  fall  asleep, 

And  sew  them  on  in  a  dream!         n..o,.. 


11.      THE   GHOST  IN  HAMLET. 

Ghosf.    I  am  thy  father's  spirit; 
Doomed  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  the  night; 
And,  for  the  day,  confined  to  fast  in  fires. 
Till  the  foul  crimes,  done  in  my  days  of  nature. 
Are  burnt  and  purged  away.     But  that  I  am  forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prison-house, 
I  could  a  tiile  unfold,  whose  lightest  word 
Woiild  harrow  up  thy  soul;  freeze  thy  young  blood; 
Make  thy  two  ef'es,  like  stars,  start  from  their  spheres; 
Thy  knotted  and  combined  locks  to  part, 
And  each  particular  hair  to  stand  on  end, 
Like  qiiills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine.  8MAK«ir«AB«. 


126  scHooi  V 

Recapitulatiox  of  Inflections. 

1.  The  rising  inflection  is  tlie  slide  of  appeal^  of  inquiry, 
>f  inAtpletenesSy  and  of  negation  contrasted  with  affirma- 
Hon. 

2.  Tlie  falling  inflection  is  the  slide  of  assertion,  of  C4pm- 
mandj  ami  of  complete  statement. 

3.  The  circumflex  is  the  wave  ^^  •'"''  htfW'r.  ////////. 
irony,  sarcasm,  satire,  and  reveti'/ 

4.  The  monotone  is  the  tone  expressive  of  grandeur,  sub- 
limity, reverence,  awe,  atnagement^  and  horror. 

Inflection  Drill  Review. 

1.  Repeat;  three  times,  the  long  vowel  sounds,  a,  e, 
i,  6,  u,  (1)  With  the  rising  second.  (2)  With  the  los- 
ing third.  (3)  With  the  rising  fifth.  (4)  With  the  rising 
octave. 

2.  Repeat,  three  times,  a,  0,  i,  o,  u.  (1)  With  the 
falling  second.  (2)  With  the  falling  third.  (3)  With 
tlie  falling  fifth.     (4)  With  the  falling  eighth. 

3.  Repeat,  three  times,  with  the  same  degrees  of  in- 
llection  as  alx)ve,  e,  a,  a,  o,  o. 

4.  Repeat,  three  times,  a,  e,  i,  6,  ii.  (1)  With  the 
rising  circumflex  of  the  third.  (2)  Fifth.  (3)  Octave. 
(4)  Falling  circimiflex  of  the  third.  (5)  Falling  fifth. 
(6)  Falling  octave. 

5.  The  same  degrees  of  the  circumflex  as  above,  on 
'",  a,  a,  6,  p. 

6.  Repeat,  three  times,  ii,  e,  i.  <"..  fi.  witli  the  low  mon- 
otone. 

7.  Repeat,  three  times,  e,  a,  a,  a,  o,  o,  with  the  low 
monotone. 


/v7 

school  elocution.  '  127 

Inflection  Drill  ox  Vocals. 
Ready  in  concert,  the  words  of  the  folloicing  TahU: 

1.  ^yith  the  rising  inflection. 

2.  With  the  falling  inflection. 
"1.  With  the  rising  circumflex. 
I.      With  the  falling  circumflex. 

a,  e. — ale,  miido,  ln-aid,  gauge,  veil,  play,  weight. 
ii. — iibns,  chart,  heart,  laugh,  haunt,  aunt,  path. 
a,  6. — all,  awe,  law,  fall,  haul,  bawl,  -erawl,  ought. 
ft. — add,  that,  brSt,  liftnd,  Ifiud,  plSid,  btlde. 
k. — air,  bdre,  dare,  pmyer,  there,  hSir,  scarcje. 
a. — ask,  -eavsk,  task,  pass,  grass,  dance,  glance, 
a,  {}. — what,  sp5t,  wad,  wand,  was,  watch,  wan. 
e. — eat,  beat,  beet,  the§e,  seize,  freeze,  leave§. 
e. — 6nd,  I6t,  threat,  g6t,  gSm,  brSad,  y?t,  said, 
e, !. — earth,  heard,  learn,  earn,  err,  third,  gird, 
e.  a.— they,  weigh,  nay,  neigh,  sleigh,  prey,  pray, 
i. — i(je,  isle,  aisle,  wine,  height,  while,  rhjTne. 
I. — ^111,  It,  wtn,  thin,  been,  gin,  since,  zinc. 
I,  e. — mirth,  girl,  dirt,  verse,  tSrse,  worse,  world. 
T,  e. — pique,  "Clique,  -ereek,  oblique,  ra\iine. 
6. — old,  tlith^e,  groan,  force,  pour,  roar,  more. 
r>. — 6dd,  5n,  bl5t,  sp6t,  g6t,  gfid,  r6d,^phl5x. 
(),  oo,  u. — ^move,  proof,  lo§e,  loose,  roof,  ch(X)se. 
6,  a. — 6r,  nftr,  war,  for,  lord,  €6rd,  fought,  -caught. 
6,  tt. — done,  doth,  dost,  dust,  blood,  flood,  ^ome. 
o,  (56,  u. — wolf,  would,  w()6d,  could,  should,  g(56d. 
u. — u.*je,  mute,  mu§e,  feud,  lieu,  view,  new,  tube, 
il,  o. — ftp,  bftt,  hftt,  sou,  blood,  giin,  dtick,  some, 
fi. — urge,  purge,  si\rge,  ciird,  iim,  biim,  chAm. 
u,  oo,  o. — nile,  sch6i)l,  briite,  route,  wound,  rude, 
u,  (56,  o. — ^put,  pull,  push,  bull,  wd6l,  wolf,  w^. 
oi,  oy. — oil,  toy.  Iwil,  €oil,  roil,  joy,  boy,  cloy, 
ou,  ow. — out  proud,  now,  how.  jnnt.  pout. 


128  •  school  elocution. 

Examples  op  Emphasis,  Pauses,  asd  Inflection. 

1.     JOHN  BUNTAN. 

Bunyau  |  is  almost  the  only  WTiter  |  that  ever  gave  to 
the  abstract  \  the  interest  of  the  concrHe.  In  the  works 
of  many  celebrated  authors  |  men  are  mere  personified' 
thus.  We  have  not  an  OthflJo,  but  jealousy;  not  an 
lagoj  but  perfidy;  not  a  BrutuSy  but  jmtriotism.  The 
mind  of  B  tiny  any  on  the  c6ntrary,  was  so  imaginative  | 
that  person  ificdtionSy  when  he  dealt  with  them,  became 
fw^n.  A  dialogue  between  two  qudlitiesy  in  his  dreamy 
has  more  dramatic  effect  |  than  a  dialogue  between  two 
hunmn  beings  \  in  most  pMys. 

The  style  of  Biinyan  |  is  delightful  to  every  reader, 
and  invaluable  |  as  a  study  |  to  every  person  |  who  wishes 
to  obtain  a  wide  comm/ind  over  the  English  language. 
The  vocabulary  \  is  the  vocabulary  of  the  common  phple. 
There  is  not  an  exprhsiony  if  we  except  a  few  technical 
terms  of  the^log}'^,  which  would  puzzle  the  rudest  peasant 
We  have  observed  several  pages  |  wliich  do  not  contain 
a  single  word  \  of  more  than  two  syllables.  Yet  nd  writer 
I  has  said  more  exactly  \  what  he  meant  to  say.  For 
magnificence,  for  pathos,  for  vehement  exhoiiation,  for 
subtile  disquisition,  for  ever}-  purpose  of  the  p6et,  the 
6rator,  and  the  divine,  this  homely  dialect,  the  dialect  of 
plain  icorl'ingmeny  was  perfectly  sufficient.  Tliere  is  no 
book  in  our  Titerature  \  on  wliicli  we  would  so  readily 
stake  the  fame  \  of  the  old  unpolluted  English  language; 
no  book  I  which  shows  so  well  |  how  rich  that  language 
)Sy  in  its  own  proper  wealth,  and  how  little  it  has  been 
improved  \  by  all  that  it  has  borrowed. 

Cowper  s4id,  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  that  he  dared 
not  name  John  Bimyan  in  his  verse,  for  fear  of  nio\T.ng 
a  sneer.  We  \  live  in  be'tter  times;  and  we  are  not  afraid  \ 
to  say,  that  though  there  were  many  clever  men  in 
England  |  during  the  latter  haK  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  129 

tiiry,  there  were  only  two  \  gr^at  \  credtive  \  mhids.  One 
of  these  produced  the  ''Paradise  L68t/'  the  other  \  the 
•'  Pilgrim^s  P*r6gre8S."  macaulay. 

2.      HYDER  ALL 

[  This  extract  must  he  read  with  strongly  markeA  rising  and  falling 
in/teetions.'] 

Whilst  the  authors  of  all  these  evils  |  were  idly  and 
stupidly  grazing  on  this  metiachnj  m^tfor,  which  black- 
ened till  the  horizon,  it  suddenly  hiirst,  and  poured  down 
the  whole  of  its  contents  |  upon  the  plains  of  the  Car- 
nktic.  Then  ensued  a  scene  of  w6e,  the  like  of  which  | 
jio  eye  |  had  .s-^^n,  no  heart  \  conceived.,  and  which  no 
tongue  \  can  adequately  t^U.  The  miserable  inhabitants, 
flying  from  their  flaming  villages,  in  part  |  were  slaugh- 
tered; 6thers,  without  regard  to  s^x,  to  «'^e,  to  rdnhy  or 
sacredness  of  function— fathers  \  torn  from  children,  hus- 
hands  \  from  wives — enveloped  in  a  whirlwind  of  cavalry, 
and  amidst  the  goading  spears  of  drivers,  and  the  tram- 
pling of  pursuing  horses,  were  swept  into  cdptivity,  in 
an  unkn6wn  and  hostile  Idnd.  Those  who  were  able  to 
evdde  this  tempest,  fled  to  the  walled  cities.  But,  escaping 
from  fire,  sword,  :ind  rxilr.  they  fell  into  the  jaws  of 
fdmine. 

For  eighteen  months,  without  internussion,  this  destruc- 
tion I  raged  |  from  the  gates  of  Madrds  \  to  the  gates  of 
Tanjdre;  and  so  completely  did  these  mast^ts  in  their 
Art,  Hyder  Ali,  and  his  more  ferocious  son,  absolve 
themselves  |  of  tlieir  Impious  vow,  that  when  the  British 
dmiies  \  traversed,  as  they  did,  the  Cam6tic  |  for  hun- 
dreds of  miles  in  all  directions,  through  the  whole  Une 
of  their  mdrch  they  did  not  see  6i\e  \  mdny  not  one  \  woman, 
not  6ne  \  chUd,  not  one  \  four-footed  h^ast  \  of  dny  descrip- 
tion \  tohather.  One  dead  |  uniform  I  silence  |  reigned  | 
over  the  whole  region.  bcek*. 


130  -<"' .    .  M..S. 

3/     (  UNTKAST  OK  TACT  AND  TALENT. 
[This  CXti'UCt  fi  ^'>>''1'''  'I  finnti  ill  iisitinlinti  nf  tlisli  nrtivr  nr  iit)i  i)tpn<is:iit)>i  il 

cireumjiex.'\ 

Tdlent  \  is  aoinetJihuj,  but  UWt  j  is  every  tiling.  Tiilent  | 
is  serious,  sober,  griive,  and  respectable:  tact  |  is  all  thdt^ 
and  more  too.  It  is  not  a  sijrih  sSmCy  but  it  is  the  life 
of  all  the  f)vf.  It  is  the  open  eye,  the  quick  tar,  the 
judging  f^).s'/c,  the  keen  stmllj  and  the  lively  touch ;  it  is 
the  interpreter  of  all  riddles,  the  surmounter  of  all  rf/j^- 
cultieSy  the  remover  of  all  obstacles.  It  is  useful  in  all 
pldces,  and  at  all  thnes;  it  is  useful  in  solitude,  for  it 
shows  a  man  }»to  the  w6rld;  it  is  useful  in  sSciety,  for 
it  shows  him  his  way  |  through  the  world. 

Talent  \  is  power,  tart  \  is  iAv//;  /J/pm/  |  is  weight,  t4ct  | 
is  momMum;  tdlent  |  knows  w'/m^  fo  <7^,  t4ct  |  knows 
hoic  to  do  it;  tdlent  \  makes  a  man  respectable,  t^ct  \  will 
make  him  respected}  tdlent  is  tcealth,  tact  \  is  ready 
mdmy.  For  all  the  prdctical  purposes,  tact  \  carries  it 
against  tdlent  \  ten  to  one. 

Take  them  to  the  theater,  and  put  them  against  each 
other  on  the  stdge,  and  tdlent  \  shall  produce  you  a 
tragedy  that  shall  scarcely  live  long  enough  to  be  con- 
dhnned,  while  tact  |  keeps  the  house  in  a  roar,  night 
after  night,  with  its  successful  f^ces.  Tliere  is  no  want 
of  dramatic  tdlent,  thei^e  is  no  want  of  di-amatic  tact; 
but  they  are  seldom  together:  so  we  have  successful 
pieces  |  which  are  not  respectable,  and  respectable  pieces  | 
which  are  not  successful. 

Take  them  to  tlie  bar,  and  let  them  shake  their  learned 
curls  at  each  other  in  Ugal  rivalry;  tdlent  \  sees  its  way 
clearly,  but  tact  \  is  first  at  its  journey's  end.  Tdlent  | 
has  many  a  compliment  from  the  bench,  but  tact  \  touches 
fe^s.  Tdlent  makes  the  world  wonder  that  it  gets  on 
no  faster,  tact  \  arouses  astonishment  |  that  it  gets  on  so 
fdst.  And  the  secret  is,  that  it  has  no  tveight  to  cany; 
it  makes  no  false  sttps;    it  hits  the  right  nail  on  the 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  I'll 

head;  it  loses  no  time;  it  takes  all  hhits;  and  by  keep- 
ing its  eye  on  the  weather-cock,  is  ready  to  take  advantage 
of  every  wind  that  bl6ws. 

Take  them  into  the  chi'irch:  fdlent  \  has  always  some- 
thing wortli  hearing  J  tact  \  is  snre  of  abundance  of  hear- 
ers; talent  \  may  obtain  a  living,  tact  will  mdke  one; 
talent  \  gets  a  good  name,  tdct  \  a  gr^at  one;  tiilent  |  con- 
vUiceA,  tact  \  converts;  talent  \  is  an  honor  to  the  pro- 
fisifion,  tact  |  gains  honor  |  from  the  profession. 

Take  them  to  court:  talent  \  feels  its  weight,  tiict  | 
finds  its  wdg;  tiilent  \  comnwnds,  tdct  \  is  oMyed;  tal- 
ent I  is  honored  with  approbation,  and  tact  |  is  blessed 
by  preferment.  Place  them  in  the  senate:  tdlent  \  has 
the  ear  of  the  house,  but  tdct  |  wins  its  heart,  and  has 
its  v6tes;  tdlent  \  is  fit  for  employment,  but  tdct  \  is 
fitted  for  it.  It  has  a  knack  |  of  slipping  into  place 
with  a  sw^et  sUence  and  glibness  of  movement,  as  a  hlll- 
iard-hoR  insinuates  itself  into  the  pocket. 

It  seems  to  know  every  thing,  without  learning  dny 
thing.  It  has  served  an  extemporary  apprenticeship ;  it 
wants  no  drilling;  it  never  ranks  in  the  dwhward  squad; 
it  has  no  left  hdnd,  no  deaf  Sarj  no  blind  side.  ,  It  puts 
on  no  look  of  wondrous  wisdom,  it  has  no  air  of  profun- 
dity, but  plays  with  the  details  of  place  |  as  dexterously 
as  a  well-taught  hdnd  \  flourishes  over  the  keys  of  the 
pidno-forte.  It  has  all  the  air  of  commonplace,  and  all 
the  force  and  power  of  genius.  Loudon  aom. 

4.      THE  PURITANS. 

Marked  for  emphasis,  inflection,  and  rhetorical  pauses.  Require  the 
class  to  give  the  reasons  for  the  marking.  To  he  read  with  strongly 
marked  emphasis  and  inflections. 

Wo  would  speak  flrst  of  the  Pit ri tans,  the  most 
remarkable  body  of  men,  perhaps,  which  the  world  has 
ever  produced.  The  odious  and  ridiculous  parts  of  th*eir 
character  |  lie  on  the  surface.     He  that  riim  \  may  rkid 


132  srnooL  elocution. 

them;  nor  have  there  been  wanting  |  atti-ntive  and 
malicious  observers  \  to  point  them  out.  For  many  years 
after  the  Restoration,  they  were  the  theme  |  of  unmeas- 
ured invMive  and  derision.  They  were  exposed  |  to  the 
utmost  licentiousness  of  the  prhs  \  and  of  the  stdgCj  at 
the  time  when  the  press  and  the  8t4ge  |  were  most  Ikhn- 
ffous.  They  were  uot  men  of  Ufters;  they  w^re  \  as  a 
body  I  unpbpuhir;  they  could  not  defhtd  themselves; 
and  the  public  \  would  uot  take  them  |  under  it«  proth- 
tion.  They  were  therefore  abandoned  |  without  resh've  \ 
to  the  tender  mercies  |  of  the  sdtirists  and  drdmatists. 
The  ostentatious  simplicity  of  their  drSsSy  their  sotir 
dspedy  their  nasal  itcdntj,  their  stiff  posture^  their  long 
(frdce^f  their  Hebrew  ndmeSy  the  scriptural  phrases  which 
they  introduced  on  erertj  occasion^  their  contempt  of 
human  Uarning,  their  detestation  of  jyolite  amusements, 
were  indeed  fair  game  for  the  laughers.  But  it  is  not 
from  the  Idtighers  al6ne  |  that  the  philosophy  of  lustory  \ 
is  to  l)e  learned.  And  he  who  approa<*hes  this  subject  | 
should  carefully  guard  against  the  influence  |  of  that 
potent  ridicule  \  which  htvs  already  misled  so  many  ex- 
cellent writere. 

Those  who  roused  the  people  to  resist^ncBj  who 
directed  their  measures  through  a  long  series  of  event- 
ful ij^ars,  who  f6rmed,  out  of  the  most  unpromising 
materials,  the  finest  dnny  \  that  Europe  had  ever  seen, 
who  trampled  down  kingj  Churchy  and  aristocracy,  who, 
in  the  short  intervals  of  domestic  sedition  and  rebellion, 
made  the  name  of  England  |  terrible  to  eveiy  nation  on  • 
the  face  of  the  Earthy  were  no  viitgar  fanatics.  Most  of 
their  absurdities  |  were  mere  fj-ternal  bddges,  like  the 
signs  of  freemdsonry,  or  the  dresses  of  friars.  We  re- 
gret  \  that  these  badges  |  were  not  more  attractive.  We 
regrH  \  that  a  body  |  to  whose  courage  and  talents  |  man- 
kind has  owed  inestimable  obligations  |  had  not  the  lofty 
flegance  \  which  distinguished  some  of  the  adherents  of 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  ^'^'^ 

Cliurles  L,  or  thf  tasy  yood  bn'idiuy  ,  tor  vvkicb  the 
eoiirt  of  Charles  11.  was  celebrated.  But,  if  we  must 
make  our  choice,  we  shall,  like  Bassanio  iu  the  pl^y, 
turn  from  the  specious  caskets,  which  contain  only  the 
(UaWs  head  and  the  fooVs  head,  and  fix  our  choice  |  on 
the  plain  Icivden  chht  \  which  conceals  the  irhisure. 

The  Puritans  \  were  men  |  whose  minds  |  had  derived 
a  peculiar  character  \  from  the  daily  contemplation  |  of 
superior  beings  \  and  eternal  interests.  Not  contPnt  \  with 
acknowledging,  in  general  terms,  an  overruling  Provi- 
dencCf  tliey  habitually  ascribed  h^en/  event  |  to  the  will 
of  the  Or  eat  Being,  for  whose  power  \  nothing  was  too 
vasty  for  whose  inspection  \  nothing  was  too  miniite.  To 
know  him,  to  serve  him,  to  enjoy  him,  was  with  them  | 
the  great  hid  of  existence.  They  reject-ed  with  con- 
thnpt  I  the  ceremonious  homage  |  which  other  sects  | 
substituted  for  the  pure  worship  of  the  soul.  Instead 
of  catching  occasional  glimpses  of  the  Deity  |  through 
an  obscuring  veil,  they  aspired  to  gaze  full  \  on  the 
intolerable  brightness,  and  to  commune  with  him  |  face 
to  fdce.  Hence  originated  |  their  contempt  \  for  terres- 
trial distinctions. 

The  difference  between  the  greatest  and  the  meanest 
of  mankind  |  seemed  to  vdnish,  when  compared  with  the 
Iwundless  interval  \  which  separated  the  whole  rdce  \  from 
him  I  on  whom  their  own  eyes  |  were  constantly  fixed. 
They  recognized  no  title  to  superiority  [  but  his  favor; 
and,  confident  of  that  favor,  they  despised  all  the  accom- 
plishments I  and  all  the  dignities  of  the  icorld.  If  they 
were  unacquaint<*d  with  the  works  of  philosophers  and 
poets,  they  were  dhphj  read  \  in  the  oracles  of  Hod.  If 
their  names  were  not  foiuid  in  the  registers  of  heralds, 
they  felt  assured  that  they  were  recorded  in  tlie  Book 
of  Life.  If  their  steps  were  not  accompanied  by  a 
splendid  train  of  menials,  legions  of  ministering  ilngels  \ 
had    aharge    over   them.    Their  palaces  \  wen?   houses  | 


134  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

not  made  with  hdtidSf  their  diadems  |  crowns  of  glory  \ 
which  should  never  fade  awdtj. 

On  the  rich  and  the  floquent,  on  nobles  and  priests, 
they  looked  down  with  contempt;  for  they  esteemed 
themselves  |  rich  in  a  more  prhious  treasure,  and  Eloquent 
in  a  more  suhDme  language ,  nobles  |  by  the  right  of  an 
earlier  cre(Uion,  and  priests  |  by  the  imposition  |  of  a 
mightier  hdnd.  The  verj'  meanest  of  them  \  was  a  b^ng  | 
to  whose  fate  |  a  mysterious  and  terrible  importance  \  be- 
longed—  on  whose  slightest  Actions  \  the  spirits  of  light 
and  ddrlness  \  looked  with  anxious  interest — who  had 
been  destined,  before  heaven  and  earth  were  created,  to 
enjoy  a  felicity  \  which  should  continue  |  when  heaven 
and  earth  |  should  have  passed  awiy.  EvMs  \  which 
short-sighted  politicians  |  ascribed  to  earthly  causes  |  had 
been  ordained  on  his  account.  For  Ms  sake  |  empires 
had  risen,  and  flourished,  and  decltyed.  For  Ms  sake  | 
the  Almighty  \  had  proclaimed  his  will  |  by  the  pen  of 
the  eviingelist  |  and  the  h4rp  of  the  prophet.  He  had 
been  rescued  by  no  common  deliverer  |  from  the  grasp  | 
of  no  common  foe.  He  had  been  ransomed  |  by  the 
sweat  of  no  vulgar  dgony,  by  the  blood  of  no  Earthly 
sacrifice.  It  was  for  Mm  \  that  the  sfm  \  had  been  dark- 
ened, that  the  rods  \  had  been  rent,  and  the  dead  had 
arisen,  that  all  nature  \  had  shuddered  at  the  sufferings  | 
of  her  expiring  God! 

Thus  the  Puritan  \  was  made  up  |  of  ttvo  different 
mhi,  the  one  I  all  aeU-abdsement,  pMtence,  gratitude, 
passion;  the  other  \  proud,  cMm,  inflexible,  sag^ious. 
He  prostrated  himself  in  the  dust  before  his  Maker; 
but  he  set  his  foot  \  on  the  neck  of  his  Mng,  In  his 
devotional  retirement,  he  prayed  with  convulsions,  and 
groans,  and  tears.  He  was  half-maddened  by  glorious  \ 
or  terrible  illusions.  He  heard  the  lyres  of  angels  \  or 
the  tempting  whispers  of  fiends.  He  caught  a  gleam  of 
the  Beatific  Vision,  or  woke  screanmig  \  from  dreams  of 


SCHOOL    Kl-ncrrioX.  135 

ei'erJasting  fh'e.  Like  Vane,  he  tliought  himself  intrusted 
with  the  scepter  |  of  the  millennial  y^ar.  Like  Fleet- 
wood, he  cried  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul  |  that  Odd  | 
had  hid  his  fiice  from  him.  But  when  he  took  his 
seat  in  the  council,  or  girt  on  his  sword  for  <«•(//•,  these 
tempestuous  workings  of  the  soul  |  had  left  no  perceptible 
frdce  l>ehind  them.  People  who  saw  nothing  of  the 
godlif  I  but  their  uncouth  visages,  and  hrard  nothing 
from  them  |  but  their  groans  |  and  their  whining  hymnSj 
might  laugh  at  them.  But  those  had  little  reason  to 
Idugh  I  who  encountered  them  |  in  the  hall  of  debate  | 
or  in  the  field  of  bMtle. 

These  fanatics  \  brought  to  civil  and  military  affairs  | 
a  coolness  of  judgment  \  and  an  immutability  of  pur- 
pose I  which  some  writers  have  thought  |  inconsistent 
with  their  religious  zeal,  but  which  were,  in  fact,  the 
necessary  effects  of  it.  The  intensity  of  their  feelings 
on  dne  subject  |  made  them  trdnquil  \  on  ecerg  other. 
One  overpowering  shitiment  \  had  subjected  to  itself  |  pity 
and  hiUred,  ambition  and  f^ar.  Death  \  had  lost  its  ter- 
rors, and  pleasure  \  its  chdrms. 

They  had  their  smiles  \  and  their  tkarSj  their  rdptures  \ 
and  their  sorrows,  but  not  \  for  the  things  of  this 
world.  Enthusiasm  |  had  made  them  stoics,  had  cleared 
their  minds  from  every  vulgar  passion  and  prejudice, 
and  raised  them  above  the  influence  of  danger  and 
of  corruption.  It  sometimes  might  lead  them  to  pur- 
sue unwise  ends,  Init  never  to  choose  unwise  means. 

They  went  through  the  world  |  like  Sir  Artegale's  iron 
man  TMus  with  his  AMI,  crusliing  and  trampling  down 
oppr<5ssors,  mingling  \vitli  human  brings,  })ut  having 
neither  pdrt  nor  h^t  |  in  human  inf)rtnities ;  insensible 
t«  fatiguey  to  pleasure,  and  to  pCiin;  not  to  be  pierced 
by  any  wiapoHj  not  to  be  withstood  by  any  h()rrier. 

Uacaulay. 


1M6  b011Ui>L     ELOCUTION. 

'.      THE   BIGHT   TO   TAX    AMKKHA. 

•But,  ^Ii".  Sjxaker,  we  hav«'  n  rhihf  to  tax  America." 
Ohy  mhfint  I />/>   lij^ht!     Oh,"  f  Kniscenclent  ughtl 

tlir    assertion    of   which    lias    co.-si    ihis   country   thirteen 
/iforinrrs,    six    )sJ<imJs,    our    Jn'onJruJ    thousdnd    Dr^s.    and 

Si'ritifil      tllll/loiis      (•!'      liinii^u!         <  >h.      I II  r.'il  inihl,       ri!_;iil   '       t'of 

the  sake   of    Avliifli    \\f    li;t\''    >;iri-iticr<l    (.m-  r;iiik   among 
nations,    our    iiiiiM.i-l;inc<-    .-inr-'ia*!,    and    <>iir    h.-ippiiicss   at 

hnliic. 

<Hi,  riijlit,  !ii«»if  (har  to  us  than  our  ijc)stencf,  which 
has  aliT.idy  <'<»><1  us  x.  /inhh.  and  wliicli  seems  likely  to 
cost  u^-  ('111-'////  Iiif.-il  uat-'d  ///'///!  7iiist'i-aM»' and  undone 
cohntrij '.  iK-i  to  ku«">w  that  the  claim  of  nght,  witliout 
the  ])o\vt  r  ».t  lufnrcing  it,  is  nugatory  and  idle.  W'c  liave 
a  rhjht  l«.  tax  Am.  riea,  the  noble  lord  t^lls  us,  therefore 
uc  ouijjit  to  tax  ^Vinerica.  This  is  the  profound  logic 
wliicli  ('()m])ris<'s  the  whole  cMin  of  his  reasoning. 

Xol  int'tTiof  \i^  i]ii>  was  the  wisdom  nt'  liim  ^vll(^ 
resolvrd  I"  >li«  ;tr  the  wolf.  What — shear  a  wolf!  Have 
you  c«»n>idt  ird  tlie  reshtanrr,  the  dffficultff,  the  danger, 
of  the  att^^nipt? 

Xoy  says  the  madnum,  I  liasr  considered  nothing  but 
the  right.  Man  has  a  right  of  dominion  over  the  beasts 
(.f  ihr  f('.rcst;  and,  therefore,  I  will  >]icai-  ilie  wolf. 
How  wonderful  that  a  nation  couhl  be  tluis  deluded! 
But  the  noble  lord  dials  in  cheats  and  delusions.  They 
are  the  daily  traffic  of  hi-  i/ir^„l!u,i;  and  he  will  ro;/- 
//?j?/^  to  play  off  his  cheats  on  this  laniso,  so  lonsz"  as 
he  thinks  them  necessarj^  to  his  piirpose,  and  so  long 
as  he  has  money  enough  at  command  to  bribe  gentle- 
men to  pretend  that  they  believe  hun. 

But  a  black  and  bitter  day  of  re<-h<'ii'ni<i  will  sui-ely 
come;  and  whenever  that  <l:iy  i-'nu's.  I  tiust  I  shall  be 
able,  by  a  parliamentary  impriKhnt*  nt,  to  bring  upon  the 
heads  of  the  authors  of  our  calamities  the  punisliment 
they  de^hve,  bvrkk. 


bcuuui.    '  I  '  M  I   1  imn.  137 


Spake  full  well,  in  language  quaint  and  olden. 
One  who  dwelleth  by  the  castled  Rhiii< . 

.When  he  called  the  flSwers,  so  blue  and  gulden, 
Sti)rs,  that  in  earth's  firmament  do  shine. 

Stars  they  are,  wherein  we  read  our  history, 

As  astrologers  and  seers  of  eld; 
Yet  not  so  wrapped  about  with  awfid  mystery', 

Like  the  burning  stars  which  they  beheld. 

Wondrous  truths,  and  manifold  as  tcmdrous, 
God  hath  written  in  those  stars  above; 

But  not  less  |  in  the  bright  flowerets  ^hidor  us  | 
Stands  the  revelation  of  His  love. 

Bright  and  glorious  |  is  that  revelation 
Writ  aU  over  this  great  world  of  ours; 

Making  e\ident  oui*  own  creation  | 
In  these  stars  of  ktrth — these  golden  flowers. 

And  the  P6et,  faithful  and  far-s6eing, 
Sees,  alike  in  stars  and  flowers,  a  part  | 

Of  the  self-same,  universal  being, 
Which  is  throbbing  |  in  his  hrdin  and  hhirt. 

Gorgeous  flbwerets  in  the  shnlight  shining; 

Bldssotns  I  flaunting  in  the  eye  of  di\y; 
Trenudous  leaves,  with  soft  and  silver  lining; 

Buds  I  that  6pen  |  only  to  dec^y! 

Brilliant  hdpeSj  all  woven  in  gorgeous  tissues, 
Flaunting  gayly  in  the  golden  light; 

Larg(^  des)res,  with  most  uncertain  issues; 
Tender  w)shes  \  blossoming  at  night ! 

These  in  flowei*s  and  men  |  are  more  than  si'-einiiiir: 
^r-^-^'"'-  I  an-  t!i»-y  |  of  the  sclf-siime  powers, 


138  svuo'  'L    i;i.'H  I   i  ION. 

Whicli   l'       '  ■  MO  idlr  <lr.  .lining:, 

St'i-lli   iii    '  :;<l   in  V.'.-    ''■'■"■■  — . 

Everywhere  abuui    u>     nvr  lii.  y  glowing — 
Some  like  sfdrs.   \<>   t*  M    n-    Si>r)vri  is  l)Oi!!: 

OfJnrs,  llicir  l.lii' 

Stand  like    /.W//      ;i!ii;.l    lU'-   lioldm   .-Mru; 

Xt»i  :i;il  Ix'Mi'iiiL:". 

AlMi     111     .-iiiii,:;.   !    -        -i'-M    rniltinznllrd     ''■   ''' 

l')ii!    in   ur}\\<     "1"   iti'avi'  uhl   Aiifinnr's   w  > 
In  111'  of  his  brazen   sliiMd; 

Not  •  iiirihlows  I  and  green  .-'illcys. 

On   the  ni(»rintain-to{»,  and  l>y  tlfe  brink  j 

Of  t^uqueslered  |>tM.l^     in   woodland  valleys. 
Where  the  slav.-  «.r  nature  |  st«M.p  im  dj-iuk; 

Not    '//"'/"     ii!     I'.'T    \'.'l--t     doliic    t.!' 

XmI    (.  iiird   and   h''t;st  alone, 

Hnl   (»n   <MM   '  n, »■■:,■  '■      ^  '  ■''   •'"■'   ^'^'■>'■'■■ 
On  the  tond)  of  A 

In  the  eottaire  of  i]:  ■   r  ,  ^ 

In  aneestral  1:  "-•  ••i-nnihlinir  towers, 

Speaking  of  the  lli*'    l*r»'s>iif. 

Tell  ns  of  the  -M'-^   -»t    FloUTL-s; 

lu  all  jjlacis,  then,  and  in  all  .sm/.sv>//.v. 

Flowers  expand  their  liiz-ht  and  soul-hke  wiinj-s. 

Teaching  ns,  1»y  up  lasive  reasons, 

How  akin  they  ai  ''t/xiu  fhinL-'s. 

And  with  child-like,  ere-duluns  aii.VviiMU, 
We  hehold  tlieir  tender  bnds  expand; 

Emblen:  :■  own   t/rdf  n surri'dhnK 

Embleiii-     «'i    the  bright     and  Intttr  land. 

LONGi'KLLUW. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  139 

7.     THE  SEVEN  AGES  (JV  MAN. 

All  the  world^s  a  atdgej 
And  all  the  m^n  and  women  merely  pliiyers: 
They  liave  their  ^xits  and  their  hdrances; 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  pdrts, 
His  rtX«  being  sh^en  dges.    At  first,  the  infant ^ 
Mewling  and  pnking  in  the  nurse's  ^ms. 
And  then,  the  whining  School-hoij^  with  his  satchel, 
And  sliining  morning  fat^e,  ci*eeping  like  smMl 
UnwilUngly  to  school^] And  then,  the  Lover ^ 
Sighing  like  furnace^  with  a  woful  baUad 
Made  to  his  mistress'  eyebrow.     Then  a  Soldier; 
Full  of  strange  oathsy  and  bearded  like  the  pdrdj 
Jealous  in  honor j  sudden  and  quick  in  qudrrelj 
Seeking  the  bubble  reputation 

Even  in  the  cdnnon's  mouth.     And  then,  the  Jkstice^ 
With  eyes  sevhe,  and  beard  of  formal  cUt, 
Full  of  wHse  siiws  and  modern  instances; 
And  so  he  plays  his  part.     The  sixth  age  shifts 
Into  the  lean  and  slippered  PantalooHj 
With  spectacles  on  tiosCj  and  pouch  on  side; 
His  youthful  hosej  well  sAved,  a  world  too  wide 
For  his  shhhih  shank;  and  his  big  manly  ro7ce, 
Turning  again  toward  childish  treble,  pipes 
/And  whistles  in  his  sound.     Last  scene  of  all, 
"NiThat  ends  this  strange  eventful  history, 
y^   ifls  second  ch)ldishness  and  mere  obUvion, 

'   *Sai^  t^ethy  sans  eyes,  sans  tdste,  sans  herything. 

8.      BITRIAL  OF  SIR  JOHN  MOORK. 

Not  a  tlntm  |  was  heard,  not  a  funeral  note, 
As  his  corse  |  to  the  rdmpart  \  we  hun-ied; 

Not  a  soldier  \  discharged  his  farewell  shot 
O'er  the  grave  |  where  our  hero  |  we  buried. 


140  SCHOOL    ELOC.'LTION. 

\\'»    lniiird  him  darkj^',  at  dead  of  nighty 

I  lie  s«k1s  with  our  hayonets  tuniiug; 
By  the  struggling  mdonbeam^s  misty  liglit, 

And  the  lantern  \  dimly  burning. 

No  useless  coffin  \  inclosed  his  breast, 

Not  in  sh^et  \  nor  in  shroud  \  we  wound  him; 

\U\t  he  lay  \  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rht  \ 
With  his  martial  cloak  \  around  liini. 

Ft^w  and  sh6rt  |  wen*  the  prdyers  we  said, 

And  we  spoke  not  a  word  of  sorrow, 
But  we  steadfastly  gazed  on  the  face  of  the  dead, 

And  we  bitterly  thought  of  the  tndrrow. 

We  thought,  as  we  hollowed  his  narrow  bed, 

And  smoothed  down  his  lonely  pillow. 
That  the  foe  and  the  stranger  |  would  tread  o^er  his  head. 

And  w^  I  far  aicdy  on  the  billow ! 

Lightly  they'll  talk  of  the  spirit  that's  gone. 
And  o'er  his  cold  ashes  |  upbraid  him, — 

But  nothing  he'll  reck,  if  they  let  him  sleep  on  | 
In  the  grave  |  where  a  Briton  |  has  laid  him. 

l^ut  half  I  of  our  heavy  task  |  was  done  | 
When  the  clock  |  struck  the  hour  for  retii-iug; 

And  we  heard  the  distant  and  random  giin  \ 
That  the  foe  |  was  sullenly  firing. 

Slowly  and  sadly  |  we  laid  him  down, 
From  the  field  of  his  fame  |  fi*esh  and  gory; 

We  carved  not  a  line,  and  we  raised  not  a  stone, 
But  left  him  |  alone  with  his  gl5ry. 


sr^Ti.MM      KLOCUTION.  141 


CHAPTER  II. 

FORCE    AND    STRESS. 


SECTION  I. 
FORCE    OF    VOICE. 

1.  Force  of  utterance  relates  to  tiie  degree  of  loudness 
or  intensity  of  voice. 

2.  The  three  main  divisions  of  force  are  soft,  moderate, 
and  lond.  These,  for  convenience,  may  be  subdivided 
as  follows:  (1)  Very  soft  (corresponding  to  pianissimo 
in  music).  (2)  Soft  {piano).  (3)  Moderate  {mezzo-forte). 
(4)  Loud  {forte).     (5)  Very  loud  {fortissimo). 

3.  The  general  rule  of  force  is,  to  read  with  an 
intensity  appropriate  to,  the  thoughts  or  emotion  to 
be  expressed,  and  with  a  power  or  strength  of  voice 
sufficient  to  fill  the  room,  so  that  everj^  person  in  it 
may  hear  distinctly  every  word  that  is  uttered. 

4.  Force  of  voice  must  be  stronger  in  the  school- 
room than  in  the  parlor,  and  louder  in  the  lecture-hall 
than  in  the  school-room.  If  read  to  an  asseml)lage  of 
a  thousand  people,  the  most  didactic  nnd  unimpassioned 
document  must  be  read  with  considerable  force. 

5.  Pupils  shoidd  be  cautioned  against  attempting  any 
degree  of  force  beyond  the  compass  of  their  voices,  and 
also  against  the  conventional  school-tone  of  loudness, 
which  consists  in  raising  the  voice  to  so  high  a  pit<xh 
that  it  grates  on  the  ear  like  the  filing  of  a  saw. 

6.  **The  command  of -all  degrees  of  force  of  voice,'' 
8av<  Prnf.  T?nss<'ll.  "  iinist  «'vi<1.'ntl\'  1>"  f««<»ntinl  t'>  ^nw. 


142  SCHOOL    KLOCl  Tlox. 

and  natural  expression,  whether  in  reading  or  speaking. 
Appropriate  utterance  ranges  through  all  stages  of  vocal 
sound,  from  the  whisper  of  fear  and  the  murmur  of 
repose,  to  the  boldest  swell  of  vehement  declamation, 
and  the  shout  of  triumphant  courage.  But  to  give  forth 
any  one  of  these  or  the  intermediate  tones,  with  just 
and  impressive  effect,  the  organs  must  be  disciplined  by 
appropriate  exercise  and  frequent  practice.  For  every 
day's  observation  proves  to  us,  that  mere  natural  instinct 
and  animal  liealth,  with  all  the  aids  of  informing  intel- 
lect, and  inspiring  emotion,  and  exciting  circumstances, 
are  not  sufficient  to  produce  the  effects  of  eloquence,  or 
even  of  adequate  utterance. 

7.  "The  overwhelming  power  of  undisciplined  feeling 
may  not  only  impede  but  actually  prevent  the  right 
action  of  the  instruments  of  speech;  and  the  novice  who 
has  fondly  dreamed,  in  his  closet,  that  nothing  more  is 
required  for  effective  expression  than  a  genuine  feeling, 
finds,  to  his  discomfitiure,  that  it  is  perhaps  the  yctj 
intensity  of  his  feeling  that  hinders  his  utterace;  and  it 
is  not  till  experience  and  practice  have  done  their  work, 
that  he  learns  tlie  primary  lesson,  that  force  of  emotion 
needs  a  practiced  force  of  will  to  balance  and  regulate 
it,  and  a  disciplined  control  over  the  organs  to  give  it 
appropriate  utterance. 

8.  "Tlio  want  of  due  training  for  the  exercise  of 
public  reading  or  speaking  is  evinced  in  the  habitual 
undue  loudness  of  some  speakers,  and  the  inadequate 
force  of  others — the  former  subjecting  their  hearers  to 
unnecessary  pain,  and  the  latter  to  disappointment  and 
uneasiness. 

9  "Force  of  utterance,  however,  has  other  claims  on 
the  attention  of  students  of  elocution,  besides  those  which 
are  involved  in  coiTeet  expression.  It  is,  in  its  various 
gradations,  the  chief  means  of  imparting  strength  to  the 
vocal  organs,  and  power  to  the  voice  itselL.     Tlie  duo 


KLOCUTIOX.  143 

practice  of  exercises  in  force  of  utterance,  does  for  the 
^'oice  what  athletic  exercise  does  for  the  muscles  of  the 
body:  it  imparts  the  two  great  conditions  of  power — 
vigor  and  phancy." 

CAUTION. 

10.  In  drill  upon  the  following  exercises,  bear  in  mind 
the  following  direction  from  Prof.  Moni'oe:  "Seek  to 
make  the  sounds  always  smooth  and  musical;  and  never 
lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  what  is  wanted  in  every-day 
use  of  the  voice,  in  the  school-room  or  elsewhere,  is  a 
pleasant  and  natiiral  intonation.  The  practice  of  loud 
and  sustained  tones  is  an  excellent  means  of  improving 
the  voice;  but  is  to  be  the  exceptitm,  not  the  rule,  in 
ordinary  reading.  Still  less  should  a  shouting' tone  be 
used  in  conducting  a  recitation,  or  in  the  ordinary  dis- 
cipline of  a  class.  Yet  the  softest  tone  must  be  elastic 
and  fuU  of  life,  not  dull  and  leaden." 


Concert  Dhuaj  on  Force. 

1.  Repeat,  tliree  times,  the  long  vocals,  a,  u,  i,  o,  u, 
(1)  with  soft  force;  (2)  with  moderate  force;  (3)  with 
loud  force. 

2.  Count  from  one  to  twenty  with  vciy  soft  force; 
with  soft  force;  "with  moderate  force;  with  loud  force; 
Nvith  very  loud  force. 

3.  Repeat,  five  times,  the  word  "all,"  beginning  with 
very  soft  force,  and  increasing  the  degree  of  force  with 
each  successive  repetition  of  tlio  word. 

4.  Repeat  the  following  with  increased  force  on  each 
successive  repetition:    -Innd,  louder^  loudest."- 

5.  Repeat,  tlireo  times,  e,  a,  a,  a,  6,  o,  (1)  with  soft 
force;   (2)  mcxlemte  force;  (3)  loud  force. 


144 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION 


T.    Very  Soft  Force. 

Very   soft   force   is   appropriate    to   the  expression  of 
tenderness,  sadness,  or  peaceful  and  tranquil  feeling. 

1 .     DIROK. 

Hoftly!  She  is  lying 
With  her  lips  apart. 

Softly!  She  is  d\nng 
Of  a  broken  heart. 

Whisper!     She  is  going 
To  her  final  rest. 

Whisper!    Life  is  growing 
Dim  within  her  breast;  EAimcAN. 

2.     LULI^VBY. 

Sweet  and  low,  sweet  and  low. 

Wind  of  the  western  sea, 
Low,  low,  breathe  and  blow, 

Wind  of  the  western  sea'  TKMfmox 

3.       ENOCH  ARDEN. 

He  therefore  turning  softly  like  a  thief, 
Lest  the  harsh  shingle  should  grate  underfoot. 
And  feeling  all  along  the  garden-waU, 
Lest  he  should  swoon  and  tiunble  and  be  found, 
Crept  to  the  gate,  and  opened  it,  and  closed. 
As  lightly  as  a  sick  man's  chamber-door, 
Behind  him,  and  came  out  upon  the  waste. 

And  there  he  would  have  knelt,  but  that  his  knees 
Were  feeble,  so  that  falling  prone  he  dug 
His  fingers  into  the  wet  earth,  and  prayed. 

Tennyson. 


n.    Soft  or  Subdued  Force. 
Soft  force  differs  from  very  soft  only  in  degree. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  145 


1.      TI^E. 

Touch  us  gently,  Time! 

Let  us  glide  adown  thy  stream 
Gently,  as  we  sometimes  glide 

Through  a  quiet  dream. 
Humble  voyagers  are  we, 

O^er  life's  dim,  unsounded  sea. 
Seeking  only  some  calm  clime; 

Touch  us  gently,  Time!  babry  cobxwau.. 

2.      DEATH  OP  THE  OLD  YEAR. 

Full  knee-deep  lies  the  winter-snow, 

And  the  wintr}'  winds  are  wearily  sighing. 

Toll  ye  the  church-bell,  sad  and  slow, 

And  tread  softly  and  speak  low, 
For  the  old  year  lies  a-dying. 

Old  yoiw,  you  must  not  die.  tknnyhon. 

3.      THE   DEATH-BED. 

We  watched  her  breathing  through  the  night, 

Her  breathing  soft  and  low. 
As  in  her  breavSt  the  wave  of  life 

Kept  heaving  too  and  fro. 
Our  very  hopes  belied  our  fears, 

Our  fears  our  hopes  belied — 
We  thought  her  dying  when  she  slept, 

And  sleeping  when  she  died.  hoob. 

4.     THB   FAIRIB  QUEKN. 

Eftsoons  they  heard  a  most  melodious  sound 
Of  all  that  might  delight  a  dainty  ear. 
Such  as,  at  once,  might  not  on  living  ground, 
Save  in  this  paradise,  be  heard  elsewhere: 
Right  hard  it  was  for  wiglit  which  did  it  hear 


146  SCHOOL    ELOn^TIOX. 

To  weet  what  manner  ii..»-n    iiiai  imjilit  ho. 
For  all  that  pleasing  is  to  living  ear 
Was  there  consorted  in  one  harmony; 
Birds,  voices,  instruments,  winds,  wntors,  all  agree. 

Spexsku. 
5.      THE  ARSENAL.  ^ 

Down  the  dark  future,  tlirough  long  generations, 
The  echoing  sounds  grow  fainter  and  then  cease; 

And  like  a  bell,  with  solemn,  sweet  vibrations, 
I  hear  ouce  more  the  voice  of  Christ  say,  "Peace!'' 

LosorELLow . 
6.      THE   LOST  CHORD. 

Seated  one  day  at  the  organ, 

I  was  weary  and  ill  at  ease, 
And  my  fingers  wandered  idly 

Over  the  noisy  keys. 

I  do  not  know  what  I  was  playing, 
Or  what  I  was  dreaming  then; 

But  I  struck  one  chord  of  music. 
Like  the  sound  of  a  great  Amen! 

It  flooded  the  crimson  twilight. 
Like  the  close  of  an  angel's  psalm, 

And  it  lay  on  my  fevered  spirit, 
With  a  touch  of  infinite  calm. 

It  quieted  pain  and  sorrow, 

Like  love  overcoming  strife; 
It  seemed  the  harmonious  echo 

From  our  discordant  life. 

It  linked  aU  pei-plexed  meanings 

Into  one  perfect  peace, 
And  trembled  away  into  silence, 

As  if  it  were  loath  to  cease. 

Adelaide  Pboctoh. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  147 

III.    Moderate  Force. 

Moderate  force  is  the  prevailing  tone  in  the  reading 
<  »f  unimpassioned  narrative,  descriptive,  or  didactic  com- 
position, in  a  small  room,  or  to  a  small  number  of 
|HTSons.  It  is  the  degree  of  force  used  in  conversation. 
The  characteristic  quality  of  moderate  force  is  "pure 
tone,"  and  the  stress,  "unimpassioned  radical." 

£XAMPL£S. 

1.  There  was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night. 

2.  Wliat  constitutes  a  state? 

3.  Scrooge  never  painted  out  old  Marley's  name. 

4.  The  history  of  England  is  emphatically  the  history- 
f  progress. 

5.  The  eyes  of  men  converse  as  much  as  their  tongues. 

6.  Spake  fuU  well  in  language  quaint  and  olden. 

One  who  dwelleth  by  the  castled  Rhine, 
When  he  called  the  flowers,  so  blue  and  golden, 
Stars,  that  in  earth's  firmament  do  shine. 

7.    Tlie  way  was  long,  the  wind  was  cold. 
The  minstrel  was  infirm  and  old. 

8.    I  met  a  little  cottage  girl. 

She  was  eight  years  old,  she  said; 
Her  hair  was  tliick  with  many  a  curl, 
That  clustered  round  her  head. 

9.    Blessings  on  thee,  little  man. 
Barefoot  boy  with  cheeks  of  tan, 
With  thy  tumed-up  pantaloon, 
And  thy  merry  whistled  tune. 

10.   I  wrote  some  lines  once  on  a  time 
In  wondrous  merry  mood. 
And  tliought,  as  usual,  men  would  say 
They  were  exceeding  good. 


They  were  so  queer,  so  very  queer, 

I  laughed  as  I  would  die; 
Albeit,  in  the  general  way, 

A  sober  man  am  I. 

11.    Listen,  my  children,  and  you  shall  hear 
Of  the  midnight  ride  of  Paid  Revere, 

On  the  eighteenth  of  April,  in  seventy-five; — 

Hardly  a  man  is  now  alive 
Who  remembers  that  famous  day  and  year. 

12.    Around  I  see  the  powers  that  be; 

I  stand  by  Empire's  primal  springs; 
And  princes  meet  in  every  street, 
And  hear  the  tread  of  uncrowned  kings! 

13.  Mrs.  Siddons  once  had  a  pupil  who  was  practicing 
for  the  stage.  The  lesson  was  upon  the  "part"  of  a 
young  girl  whose  lover  had  deserted  her.  The  rendering 
did  not  please  that  Queen  of  Tragedy,  and  she  said: 
"Think  how  you  woidd  feel  under  the  circumstances. 
What  would  you  do  if  your  lover  were  to  run  off  and 
leave  you?"  "I  would  look  out  for  another  one,"  said 
that  philosophic  young  lady;  and  Mrs.  Siddons,  with  a 
gesture  of  intense  disgust,  cried  out,  "Leave  me!"  and 
would  never  give  her  another  lesson. 

14.      READING  AS  AN  ACCOMPLISHMENT. 

We  had  rather  have  a  child  return  to  us  from  school 
a  first-rate  reader,  than  a  first-rate  performer  on  the 
piano-forte.  We  should  feel  that  we  had  a  far  better 
pledge  for  the  intelligence  and  talent  of  our  child.  The 
accomplishment,  in  its  perfection,  would  give  more 
pleasure.  The  voice  of  song  is  not  sweeter  than  'the 
voice  of  eloquence.  And  there  may  be  eloquent  readers, 
as  well  as  eloquent  speakers. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  14. > 

IV.    Loud  Force. 

Loud  force  is  the  term  used  to  express  courage,  bold- 
ness, defiance,  anger,  grandeur,  and  sublimity.  It  is 
used  by  the  public  speaker  in  addressing  a  large  audi- 
ence, or  when  speaking  under  the  sway  of  strong 
emotion. 

This  degree  of  force  requires  full  and  deep  breathing, 
md  a  vigorous  use  of  the  vocal  organs. 

The  middle  pitch  is  the  appropriate  key  of  loud  force. 
A  liigli  pitch  weakens  the  effect  of  forcible  reading  or 
declamation. 

EXAMPLKS. 

1.  Joy !    Joy !    Shout,  sliout  aloud  for  joy. 

2.  Hark  to  the  brazen  blare  of  the  bugle! 
Hark  to  the  rolling  clatter  of  the  dinims. 

3.  Not  in  vain  the  distance   beacons.     Forward,  for- 

ward, let  us  range; 
Let  the  great  world  spin  forever  down   the   ring- 
ing grooves  of  change. 

4.      ALEXANDER'S  FEAST. 

Now  strike  the  golden  lyre  again; 

A  louder  yet,  and  yet  a  louder  strain. 

Break  his  bands  of  sleep  asunder. 

And  rouse  him,  like  a  rattling  peal  of  thunder. 

Pryi»k.n. 
5.      REVPINOE. 

And  longer  had  ^he  sung — but,  with  a  frown. 

Revenge  impatient  rose. 
He  threw  his  blood-stained  sword  in  thunder  down. 

And,  with  a  withering  k)ok, 

Tlie  war-denouncing  trumpet  took. 
And  blew  a  blast,  so  loud  and  dread, 
W'rvi'  ne^er  pi*oplietic  sounds  so  full  of  woe: 

And  ever  and  anon,  he  beat 

The  doubling  drum  with  furious  heat,     oclux*. 


150  SCHOOL    ELOCLTIOX. 

6.     MILTON'S  "PARADISE  LOST.*' 

Now  storming  fhry  rose, 
And  rJUmor  such  as  heard  in  heaven  till  now 
Wa>  arms  on  armor  clashing,  brayed 

HoiTiiii'    ■   scorfl,  and  tho  madding  wheels 

Of  brazen  '  h.'/iin/s  rai:* d:   dir«^  was  the  noise 

Of  conflict:    overhead  the  dism.il  liiss 

Of  fiery  darts  in  flaming  {•(>////>  H'W, 

And  flying  vaulted  either  host   Nvith  tire. 

So  nndi-r  tiei-y  (••'.pc.  toL''''tlit'r  ni>lir(l 

Both  baltk's  iiitiiii,  with   niiiioii-   -   -  '"^z 

And  inextinguishable   /)/ .     All 

Res6unded;  and  had  ^ar//i  ]><« n  ihru,  all  ^arthj 

Had  to  b"''  /'.i//.-  sh6ok.     Wh.it   n-ntuh'rf   where 

MMliom  icounteriiiLT  an^cl^  fouirht 

On  Hther  Mty  the  least  of  whom  could  wield 

These  elements,  and  arm  him  with  the  force 

Of  all  their  regions, 

7.      THE  BELLS. 

.  Hear  tho  loud  alarum  bells— 
/>/'/:'  n  bells! 
What  a  tale  of  tenor ^  now,  their  turbulency  tells! 
In  the  startled  ear  of  night 
How  they  scream  out  their  affright! 
Too  much  horrified  to  speak, 
They  can  only  shriek,  shi-iek, 
Out  of  tune,     « 
In  the  clamorous  appealing  to  the  mercy  of  the  fire, 
In  a  mad  expostulation  ^vitli  the  deaf  and  frantic  fire. 
Leaping  higher,  hUjliPV,  higher, 
With  a  desperate  desire. 
And  n  resolute  endeavor, 
^^  to  sit  or  never 

By  the  side  of  the  pale-faced  moon!  poe. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  I  )1 

V.    \'luv   Lol'd  OB  Declamatory  Force. 

Very  loud  force  prevails  iu  oratorical  declamation 
before  large  audiences.  It  is  also  heard  in  the  tones  of 
anger,  of  passion,  of  command,  in  calling  or  shouting, 
and  in  intensely  dramatic  reading. 

.   IflXAMPLES. 

1.    Now  for  the  fight!  now  for  the  cdnnon  peal. 

Forward!  through  })lood  and  toil,  and  cloud,  and 
fire! 
Glorious  the  shout ,  the  shock,  the  crash  of  steel, 
The  volley's  roll,  the  rocket's  blasting  spire. 

1^.    To  ^rms!  they  c6me!  the  Gr^ek!  the  Gr^ekl 

3.  Liberty!    Freedom!     Tyranny  is  dkid. 

4.    Thy  threats,  thy  mercy  I  defp, 
I  give  thee  in  thy  teeth  the  lie. 

5.    He  raised  a  shout  as  he  drew  on 

Till  all  the  welkin  rang  again: 

'^Elizabeth!   Elizabeth!" 

6.    From  every  hill,  by  every  sea. 

In  shouts  proclaim  the  great  decree, 
"^W  chains  are  burst,  all  men  are  free!" 
Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah! 

7.      8PARTACU8    TO    THE    GLADIATORS. 

{Radical  and  vanishiug  stress,  and  strongly  marked  oireum/lex  in- 
flections,  ] 

Ye  stand  here  now  like  giants,  as  ye  (ire.  The  strength 
of  hrdss  is  in  your  toughened  sinews;  but  to-morrow 
Bome  RSman  Adonis,  breathing  sweet  perfume  from  his 
citrly  locks,  shall  with  his  Itly  fingers  pdt  yoiu*  red 
brdirn,  and  bet  his  shterces  npon  your  blood.  H^k! 
heur  ye  yon  lion  roaring  in  his  dhif  'Tis  three  d/iys 
since  he  tasted  flhh;  but  to-mSrrow  he  shall  break  his 


152  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

last  14)011  j/oitrSy  and  a  dainty  mual  lor  him  ye  will  />/. 
If  ye  are  hedsts^  theu  stand  here  like  fat  oxeHy  waiting 
for  the  butcher's  knife!  If  ye  are  men^  follow  nih! 
Strike  down  yon  gutird^  gain  the  mountain  pdsses,  and 
thh'e  do  bloody  work,  as  did  your  sires  at  old  Ther- 
mopyke!  Is  Sparta  dead?  Is  the  old  Grecian  spirit 
frozen  in  your  v6ins,  that  you  do  crouch  and  cmeer  like 
a  belabored  Jwund  beneath  his  master^s  lashf  Oh,  com- 
rades! wdrriors!  Tlirdcians!  if  we  must  fight,  let  us 
fight  for  our  spires!  If  we  must  slaughter,  let  us  slaughter 
our  oppressors!  K  we  must  die,  let  it  be  under  the 
clear   sky^   by   the   bright   waters,   in   n6ble,   h6norable 

hd^ttU,  Kblwkkj. 

8.      CATILINK  S    DKKIANCK. 

Conscript  fathers, 
I  do  not  rise  to  waste  the  night  in  wdrds: 
Let  that  pleMi^in  talk;  'tis  not  my  trMe; 
But  here  I  stand  for  right! — Let  him  show  prdofs! 
For  Rdtnan  right;   though  none,  it  seems,  dare  stand 
To  take  their  share  with  mk    Ay,  cltister  there ! 
Cling  to  your  m^ter,  jiidges,  Rdmaus,  sldves! 
His  chai-ge  is  fdlse.    I  ddre  him  to  his  proofs. 

CaoLY, 
9.      RICHELIEU. 

Who  spake  of  Ufef 
I  bade  thee  grasp  that  treasure  as  thine  honor — 
A  jSwel  worth  whole  hecatombs  of  lives!  .^ 
Begone!  redeem  thine  h6nor!     Back  to  Marion — 
Or  Bdradas — or  Orleans — trk;k  the  robber — 
Regdin  the  pdcket — or  crawl  on  to  kge — 
Age  and  gray  hairs  like  mine — and  know  thou'st  lost 
That  which  had  made  thee  gr^af  and  saved  thy  country. 
See  me  not  tiU  thou'st  bought  the  right  to  seek  me. 
Awdy!    Nay,  cheer  thee!  thou  hast  not  fail'd  yet — 
There's  no  such  word  as  fail.  bulweb. 


10.      FREEDOM. 

8.  If  I  could  stand  for  a  moment  upon  one  of  your 
high  mountain  tops,  far  above  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
civilized  w6rld,  and  there  might  see,  coming  up,  one 
after  another,  the  bravest  and  wisest  of  the  ancient 
warriors,  and  statesmen,  and  kings,  and  monarchs,  and 
priests;  and  if,  as  they  came  up,  I  might  be  permitted 
to  ask  from  them  an  expression  of  opinion  upon  such 
a  case  as  this,  with  a  common  voice  and  in  thunder  taneSj 
reverberating  through  a  thousand  v611eys,  and  echoing 
down  the  Ages,  they  would  cry:  ^^lAherty,  Frhdom,  the 
Universal  Brotherhood  of  ManV  I  join  that  sh5ut;  I 
swell  that  anthem  j  I  echo  that  praise  forever,  and 
for  evermore. 

11.      THE  WAR  INEVITABLE. 

They  tell  us,  sir,  that  we  are  uidli — una})le  to  cope 
with  so  formidable  an  adversary.  But  when  shall  we 
be  stronger  f  Will  it  be  the  next  w^ekj  or  the  next 
y^arf  Will  it  be  when  we  are  totally  disarmed,  and 
when  a  British  guard  shall  be  stationed  in  every  house  f 
Shall  we  gather  strength  by  irresolution  and  inaction  f 
Shall  we  acquire  the  means  of  effec^tual  |  resistance  by 
lying  supinely  on  our  hdcJcs,  and  hugging  the  delusive 
phantom  of  hope,  until  our  enemies  shall  have  bound  us 
hfind  and  footf  Sir,  we  are  not  weak,  if  we  make  a 
proper  use  of  those  means  which  the  God  of  natuin^ 
hath  placed  in  our  p6wer.  It  is  in  vain,  sir,  to  exthiu- 
ate  the  matter.  Gentlemen  may  cry  p^ace,  peace! — but 
there  is  no  peace.  The  war  is  mutually  beg  An!  The 
next  gale  that  sweeps  from  the  north  will  bring  to  our 
ears  the  clash  of  resounding  iirms!  Our  hrHhren  are 
already  in  the  fiMd !  ^yhy  stand  we  here  )dief  W^hat 
is  it  that  gentlemen  icishf  What  would  they  hdvef 
Is  life  so  dSar,  or  peace  so  swht,  a«  to  be  purchased  at 
the  price  of  chdins  and  slavery t  ^Forbid  it,  Almighty 


154  SCHOOL    ELOC  I   TloN. 

GM!     I  know  not  what  course  others  may  takej  but 
as  for  mi,  give  me  liberty,  or  give  me  death! 


f 

Patrick  Henby. 


VI.    Recapitulation  op  Force. 

1.  Force  must  he  regulated  by  the  thought  or  feelhvg  to 
be  expressed. 

2.  Soft  force  prevails  in  the  expression  of  peaceful 
thought,  of  sentiment,  of  tranquillity,  and  of  suppressed 
emotion. 

3.  Moderate  force  is  the  natural  tone  of  conversation 
and   of  narrative,   descriptive,   ami    didactic  composition. 

4.  Loud  force  prevails  in  the  expression  of  anger,  pas- 
sion, sublimity,  command,  and  strong  feeling. 

5.  Very  loud  force  prevails  in  calling  and  shouting; 
in  cries  of  alarm,  fear,  and  terror;  and  in  intense  dra- 
matic expression. 

Examples  of  Force. 

VERY  SOFT. 

Low,  low,  breathe  and  blow,  wind  of  the  western  sea. 

SOFT. 

How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank. 

MODERATE. 

Marley  was  dead,  to  begin  with. 

i:.on>.   . 

Hear  the  loud  alarum  bells — brazen  bells! 
How  they  clang,  and  clash,  and  roar. 

VERY  tOIJD. 

Liberty!   freedom!     Tyranny  is  dead. 

Require  each  pupil  to  select,  write  out,  and  read  in  the  class,  a 
similar  set  of  quoted  illustrations. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  155 

^  SECTION  n. 

8TBE88    OF    VOICE. 

iStress  denotes  the  manner  of  applying  volume  of  voice 
to  single  words  or  sounds.  The  elocutionary  divisions 
of  stress  are: 

1.  Radical  >  4.    Thorough  =: 

2.  Median   <>  5.    Compound  X 

3.  Vanishing  >  6.  Intermittent  :^;^::^ 
The  radiciil  and  the  median  stress  are  the  most  im- 
portant and  the  most  used  of  these  divisions;  and  to 
these  the  attention  of  school  readers  should  be  chiefly 
directed.  The  other  forms  of  stress  mainly  concern  the 
special  elocutionist  or  the  actor;  and  may,  therefore,  be 
treated  very  briefly. 

I.     RADICAL   STRESS. 

r 

1.  Ill  radical  stress,  the  force  strikes  abruptly  upon 
the  radiXj  or  beginning  of  a  word  or  a  sound.  It  cor- 
responds to  the  diminuendo  in  music. 

2.  It  may  be  illustrated  by  exploding  the  full  force 
of  the  voice  upon  the-  initial  vowel  in  the  following 
words:  (1)  ale,  arm,  all,  old,  ooze.    (2)  St,  6nd,  In,  on,  iip» 

3.  Of  this  stress,  Dr.  Rush  says:  "There  are  so  few 
speakers  able  to  give  a  radical  stress  with  this  moment- 
ary burst,  and  therefore  so  few  who  may  comprehend 
the  mere  description  of  it,  that  I  must  dn\w  an  illus- 
tration from  the  effort  of  coughing%  A  single  impulse 
of  coughing  is  not  in  all  points  exactly  like  the  abrupt 
voice  on  syllables,  for  that  single  impulse  is  a  forcing 
out  of  almost  aU  the  breath,  which  is  not  the  case  in 
syllabic  utterance;  yet  if  the  tonic  element  be  employed 
^  tlie  vocality  of  coughing,  its  abrupt  opening  will  truly 
represent  the  function  of  radical  stress,  when  used  m 
discourse. 


156  SCHOOL    ELOCLTluN. 

4.  "It  is  this  stress  which  draws  the  cutting  edge  of 
words  across  the  ear,  and  startles  even  stupor  into  atten- 
tion; this,  which  lessens  the  fatigue  of  listening,  and 
out- voices  the  murmur  and  unruly  stir  of  an  assembly; 
and  a  sensibility  to  this,  through  a  general  instinct  of 
the  animal  ear,  which  gives  authority  to  the  groom,  and 
makes  the  horse  submissive  to  his  angry  accent. 

r>.  "  Besides  the  fullness,  loudness,  and  abruptness  of 
the  radical  stress,  when  employed  for  distinct  articula- 
tion, the  tonic  sound  itself  should  be  a  pure  vocality. 
When  mixed  ^^dth  aspiration,  it  loses  the  brilliancy  that 
serves  to  increase  the  impressive  effect  of  the  explosive 
force." 

Distinctions  of  Radical  Stress. 

1.  Radical  stress  may  be  distinguished  as  unimpas- 
sioned  and  impassioned. 

2.  The  xmimpassioned  radical  is  used  in  narrative, 
descriptive,  and  didactic  reading,  to  give  a  clear,  dis- 
tinct, energetic  style  of  expression.  The  impassioned 
radical  is  the  strong,  full,  abrupt  utterance  which  char- 
acterizes the  voice  when  under  the  influence  of  strong 
passions,  such  as  anger,  hatred,  etc.  It  is  the  stress  of 
authoritative  command,  of  strength,  and  of  power. 

I.    The  Unimpassioned  Radical. 

This  form  of  the  radical  stress  is  generally  combined 
with  moderate  force  and  middle  pitch.  In  the  linim- 
passioned  radical  the  vowel  and  liquid  sounds  are  cut 
short  as  in  the  staccato  movement  in  music. 

This  stress  is  characteristic  of  vivacity,  gayety,  humor, 
and  of  clear,  distinct,  and  definite  statement. 

Unimpassioned  Radical  Drill. 
1.    Repeat  rapidly   four  times,  -with  the  falling  inflec- 


tion,    the    short   vowel   sounds,    a.    <■.    i.    r..    n ;    the    loii^ 
vm*als,  a,  e,  i,  6,  u. 

J.  Count  from  one  to  twenty  with  moderate  force 
and  falling  infleetion,  cutting  short  the  words  as  in 
staccato  movement. 

3.  Is  this  a  time  to  be  gloomy  and  sad, 

When  our  mother  nature  laughs  around? 
When  even  the  deep  blue  heavens  look  glad, 

And  gladness  breathes  from  the  blossoming  ground? 

4.  Hear  the  sledges,  with  the  bells — silver  bells, 
What  a  world  of  merriment  their  melody  foretells; 

How  they  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle, 
In  the  icy  air  of  night! 

Examples  of  Unimpassioned  Radical. 

1.    Bob-o'link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink; 
Chee!  chee!  chee! 

2.  Sometimes,  with  secure  delight, 
The  upland  hamlets  will  invite. 
When  the  merr}'  bells  ring  round,  ^ 

And  the  jocund  rebecs  sound 
To  many  a  youth  and  many  a  maid. 
Dancing  in  the  checkered  shade. 

3.      HUDIBRAS. 

'].   In  mathematics  he  was  greater ' 
Tlian  Tycho  Bnihe  or  Erra  Pater; 
For  he,  by  geometric  scale, 
Could  take  the  size  of  pots  of  ale; 
Resolve  by  sines  and  tangents,  straight. 
If  bread  or  butter  wanted  weight; 
And  wisely  t<?ll  what  hour  o'  th^  day 
The  clock  does  strike,  by  algebra. 


158  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

4.     RIIYME  OP  THE  RAIL. 

Singing  through  the  forests, 

Rattling  over  ridges, 
Shooting  under  arches, 

Rumbling  over  bridges; 
Whizzing  through  the  mountains, 

Buzzing  o'er  the  vale — 
Bless  me!  this  is  pleasant, 

Riding  on  the  rail! 

5.  SUMMER. 

There's  a  dance  of  Uaves  in  that  aspen  howerj 
There's  a  titter  of  winds  in  that  beechen  trhj 

There 's  a  smile  on  the  fruit j  and  a  smile  on  the  flower j 
And  a  Idugh  from  the  brSok  that  runs  to  the  s^a! 

Brtaxt. 

6.  SUMMER. 

And  what  is  so  rare  as  a  day  in  Junet 

Then,  if  ever,  come  perfect  days; 
Then  Heaven  tries  the  earth  if  it  be  in  tune, 

And  over  it  softly  her  warm  ear  lays; 
Whether  we  look  or  whether  we  listen, 
We  hear  life  murmur  or  see  it  glisten; 
Every  clod  feels  a  stir  of  might. 

An  instinct  within  it  that  reaches  and  towers. 
And,  gi'oping  blindly  above  it  for  light, 

Climbs  to  a  soul  in  grass  and  flowers. 


LOVTELL. 


7.      SEA-WEED. 

When  descends  on  the  Atlantic 

The  gigantic 
Storm-wind  of  the  equinox, 
Landward  in  his  wrath  he  scourges 

The  toiling  surges. 
Laden  with  sea- weed  from  the  rocks: 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  159 

Ever  drifting,  drifting,  driftintr 

On  the  shining 
Currents  of  the  restless  main; 
Till  in  sheltered  coves,  and  reaches 

Of  sandy  beaches, 
All  have  found  repose  again.  loncfellow. 

8.      THE   DRUM. 

At  a  distance,  down  the  street,  making  music  with  their 

feet. 
Came  the  soldiers  from  the  wars,  all  embelhshed  with 

their  scars, 
To  the  tapping  of  a  drum,  of  a  drum; 
To  the  pounding  and  the  sounding  of  a  drum ! 
Of  a  drum,  of  a  drum,  of  a  drum!   drum,  drum,  drum ! 

9.      COMPENSATION. 

Experienced  men  of  the  world  know  very  well  that  it 
is  best  to  pay  scot  and  lot  as  they  go  along,  and  that 
a  man  often  pays  dear  for  a  small  frugality.  The  bor- 
rower runs  in  his  own  debt.  Has  a  man  gained  any- 
thing who  has  received  a  hundred  favors  and  rendered 
nonet  Has  he  gained  by  boiTOwing,  through  indolence 
or  cunning,  his  neighbor's  wares,  or  horses,  or  money  f 
There  arises  on  the  deed  the  instant  acknowledgment 
of  benefit  on  the  one  part,  and  of  debt  on  the  other; 
that  is,  of  superiority  and  inferiority.  The  transaction 
remains  in  the  memory  of  himself  and  his  neighbor; 
and  everj^  new  transaction  alters,  according  to  its  nature, 
their  relation  to  each  other.  He  may  soon  come  to  see 
that  he  had  better  have  broken  his  own  bones  than  to 
have  ridden  in  his  neiglibor's  coach,  and  tbat  "the 
highest  price  he  can  pay  for  a  thing  is  to  ask  for  it.^' 

Emkrsuk. 


160  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

II.     The  Impassion ku   Radical. 

1.  The  impassioned  radical  stress  falls  on  the  ear 
with  abrupt,  explosive  force,  like  the  beat  of  a  bass 
dram.  A  good  illustration  of  extreme  radical  stress  is 
afforded  by  loud,  explosive  laughter. 

2.  The  impassioned  radical  marks  positive  assertion, 
strong  determination,  and  authoritative  command.  It 
is  the  abrupt  stress  of  courage,  boldness,  anger,  and 
hatred. 

3.  The  absence  of  radical  stress,  so  conunon  in  un- 
trained readers  and  speakers,  indicates  feebleness,  inde- 
cision, and  confusion  or  timidity.  A  laek  of  radical 
stress  may  kill  the  most  impressive  sentiments,  or  may 
transform  a  gay,  joyous,  lively  piece  of  composition 
into  dull,  joyless,  or  even  melancholy  expression. 

4.  Carried  to  excess,  however,  the  radical  stress  be- 
comes the  mark  of  egotism,  dogmatism,  and  undue  self- 
assertion.  It  often  characterizes  the  rant  of  the  stump 
speaker  who  "tears  a  passion  into  tatters.^^ 

5.  There  is  little  tendency  in  school  to  excess  of 
radical  stress:  on  the  contrary,  there  is  generally  a  lack 
of  it. 

Impassioned  Radical  Stress  Drill. 

1.  Repeat,  three  times,  with  abrupt,  explosive  force, 
the  long  vocals,  a,  e,  i,  6,  u. 

2.  Repeat,  in  the  same  manner,  the  following:  ale, 
arm,  aU,  ooze. 

3.  Repeat,  foiu*  times,  with  explosive  laughter:  ha! 
ha!  ha!   ho!  ho!  ho!   haw!  haw!  haw! 

4.  Tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  the  boys  are  marching. 

5.  Awake!  anse !  or  he  forever  fcillen ! 

6.    Up,  drdwhridge,  groom,  what,  warder,  ho! 
Let  the  portcullis  faU. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTIOX.  161 

7.  To  drms!  to  drms!  to  dnns!  they  cry. 

8.  Shoulder   arms!     forward     march!     JuUt!      Right 
bout  fiicey  m<h'('h! 

9.  Hold!  hold!  for  your  lives! 

10.  Back  to  thy  punishment,  false  fugitive. 

11.  He  was  strnckj  struck  like  a  dog. 

12.    Up!  comrades,  up!  in  Rokeby's  halLs 
Ne'er  be  it  said  our  courage  falls. 

13.  Send  out  more  horses!   skin  the  countrj'  round. 

Awake !     Awake ! 

14.  Kinj^^  ihf  alarum  bell!     Murder  and  treason! 
Malcolm!  awake!     Malcobn!     Banquo ! 

15,     THE  CLANSMAN  TO  mS  CHIEF. 

^'Macldine!   youVe  scourged  me  like  a  hhumJ; — 
You  should  have  strucTi  me  to  the  groumJ. 
You  should  have  played  a  ch)eftain^s  part; — 
You  should  have  stdhbed  me  to  the  hedrt. 

''You  should  have  crushed  me  unto  dkatli; 
But  here  I  swedr  with  living  breath, 
That  for  this  tvrdug  which  you  have  d6ne, 
I'll  wreak  my  vengeance  on  your  son. 

"I  sconi  forgiveness,  haughty  m^n! 
You've  )njured  me  before  the  ddn; 
And  naught  but  hUod  shall  wipe  away 
The  sMme  I  have  endUred  to-day."  mackay. 

Ki.      ALEXANDRA. 

Wtlcunit'  litr,  thunders  of  fort  and  of  fl^t! 

Welcome  lier,  thundering  cheer  of  the  strati 

Wl'Icome  her,  all  things  useful  and  sw^tj 

Scatter  the  hJo.ssoms  under  her  f^t! 

BWiak,  happy  Itind,  into  earlier  fl6wers: 

Mak»'  Tnusic,  O  bnnl,  in  the  new  budded  lx)wers! 

11 


1  n2  V  (     1  :  ,  M  ,  1  ,      1 .  I ,  ()  (     I  ■   J'  1  (  )  N  . 

Blazon  yoiir  mottoes  |  of  blessing  and  pn\yer ! 
Welcome  lier,  welcome  her,  all  that  is  ours! 
W4rblo,  O  bugle;   and  trumpet,  bltire! 
FIf)f/Sj  flutter  out  |  upon  ti'iirets  and  t<>wer8! 
Flames,  on  the  windy  headland  flare! 
Utter  your  jubilee^  steeple  and  ,s2))re  I 
Clash,  ye  hells,  in  the  meiry  March  t^ir! 
Fldshf  ye  c)fies,  in  rivers  of  fire! 
Rush  to  the  roof,  sudden  racket,  and  liigher  | 
Melt  into  tlio  sfiirs  for  tlio  land's  flestre! 

Tknnymon. 
17.      THK  OLD  CONTINENTALS. 

And  gru turner,  grummer,  grummer, 
HnWoil  tlie  roll  of  the  drummer, 
Throuuli  tlio  morn ! 

And  louder,  louder,  louder, 
Cnu'ked  the  loud  gunpowder, 
Cracked  amain! 

Then  higher,  higher,  higher. 
Burned  the  old-fashioned  fire 
Through  the  ranks! 

And  rounder,  roijxder,  ROUNDER, 
Roared  the  iron  six-ponnder. 
Hurling  death! 

18.      THE   BRAZEN   BELLS. 

Hear  the  loud  alarum  bells, — 
Brazen  bells ! 
What  a  tale  of  terror,  now,  their  turbulency  tells! 
In  the  startled  ear  of  night 
How  they  scream  out  their  affright! 
Too  much  horrified  to  speak, 
They  can  only  shriek,  shriek. 
Out  of  tune. 


-<  II  ■  •< .  i.    I  !.i  .i.'UTiox.  163 

In  the  olaiuorous  appealing-  to  the  mercy  of  the  fire, 
In  a  iiuul  expostuhitioii  with  the  deaf  and  frantic  fii*e 
Leaping  higher,  higher^  HIGHER, 
With  a  desperate  desire, 
And  a  resolute  endeavor, 
Xow — now  to  sit  or  never, 
J^y  the  side  of  the  pale-face  moon. 
O  the  belLj,  bells,  bells, 
^Vhat  a  tale  their  terror  tells 
Of  despair! 
How  they  clang  and  clash  and  roar! 
What  a  horror  they  outpour 
On  the  bosom  of  the  palpitating  air! 
Yet  the  ear,  it  fully  knows, 
By  the  twanging 
And  the  clanging, 
How  the  danger  ebbs  and  flows; 
Yet  the  ear  distinctly  tells. 
In  the  jangling 
And  the  wrangling. 
How  the  danger  sinks  and  swells, 
By  the  sinking  or  the  swelling  in  the  anger  of  the  bells — 
Of  the  bells— 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells. 
Bells,  beUs,  bells— 
In  the  clamor  and  clangor  of  the  bells!  p,.k. 


Read  this  Declaration  |  at  the  head  of  the  drmy: 
every  sicord  \  wiU  be  dniwn  from  its  sciihhardj  and  the 
solemn  vow  |  littered,  to  maintain  it,  or  to  phrish  \  on 
the  bed  of  hbiwr.  Publish  it  from  the  pklpit;  religion  \ 
will  approve  it,  and  the  love  of  religious  liberty  \  will 
cling  round  it,  resolved  |  to  stand  with  it,  or  /(///  ^vitli 
it.  Send  it  to  the  public  hUls;  procliiim  it  th6re;  let 
them  I  hear  it,  wlv^  iw..,.,]  the  fii*st  "o,.,.  '  of  tin*  enemy's 


164  Rf^noOL    ELOCUTION. 

cdnnon;  let  tym  \  ^;ee  it,  who  saw  their  brothers  and 
their  sons  \  fall  on  the  field  of  Binder  11)11,  and  in  the 
streets  of  Lexington  and  Cdncord,  and  the  very  wdlls  | 
will  cr\'  out  I  in  its  support.  wkbwkr. 

20.      FREEDOM. 

Many  years  long  gone,  I  took  my  stiind  by  Free- 
dom^ and  where  \  in  my  earliest  yonth  |  my  fiet  \  were 
pl4nted,  there  \  my  manhood  \  and  my  tige  shall  march. 
And  for  one,  I  am  not  ashamed  of  Freedom.  I  know 
her  pdicer.  I  rejoice  \  in  her  mdjesty.  I  walk  \  beneath 
her  Ixhiner.  I  gUry  \  in  her  strhigth,  I  have  seen  Free- 
dom I  in  histor}^,  again  and  agiMn;  with  mine  own 
^es  I  I  have  watehed  her  |  agdin  and  again  |  struck 
down  I  on  a  hundred  chosen  fields  of  l)attle. 

I  have  seen  her  friends  \  fly  from  her;  I  have  seen 
foes  I  gather  round  her;  I  have  seen  them  |  hind  her  to 
the  stdke;  I  have  seen  them  give  her  ashes  to  the 
winds — re^dthering  them  again  |  that  they  might  scatter 
them  I  yet  more  widely;  but  when  her  foes  j  turned  to 
ejcult,  I  have  seen  her  again  \  meet  them  |  face  to  face, 
respUndent  in  compUte  steel,  and  brandishing  |  in  her 
strong  right  hand  \  a  flaming  sword,  red  with  insuffer- 
ahle  Dghi. 

And  I  take  courage.  The  people  \  gather  round  her. 
The  Genius  of  America  |  wiU  at  last  |  lead  her  sons  to 
Freedom.  bakeh. 

21.      PERORATION  OP  BUZPUZ :— BARDELL  VS.   PICKWICK. 

[The  foUmcing  is  an  example  of  the  bombastic  style  of  ranting  oratory, 
ichich  is  a  burlesque  of  true  art.'] 

Of  this  man  I  will  say  little.  The  subject  presents 
but  few  attractions;  and  I,  gentlemen,  am  not  the  man, 
nor  are  you,  gentlemen,  the  inen,  to  delight  in  the  con- 
templation of  revolting  heartlessness,  and  of  systematic 
villainy.    I  say  systemdtic  villainy,  gentlemen;  and  when 


SCHOOL   i;i.'"  '   1  I...S .  165 

I  say  sf/stemafir  villainy,  let  me  tell  the  defendant  Pick- 
wick, if  lie  be  in  coiirt,  as  I  am  informed  he  is,  that  it 
would  have  been  more  dhent  in  him,  more  becoming,  if 
he  had  stopped  mcdy.  Let  me  tell  him,  fmther,  that  a 
counsel,  in  the  discharge  of  his  dhty,  is  neither  to  be 
intimidated,  nor  bullied,  nor  put  down;  and  that  any 
attempt  to  do  either  the  one  or  the  other  will  recoil  on 
the  head  of  the  att^mpter,  be  he  plaintiff  or  be  he  de- 
f'hidanty  be  his  name  Pickwick,  or  Noakes,  or  StiSakes, 
«>r  Stiles,  or  Br6wn,  or  Thompson.  ' 

But  Pickwick,  gentlemen,  Pickwick,  the  ruthless  de- 
stroyer of  this  domestic  oasis  in  the  desert  of  Goswell 
>treet, — Pick^vick,  who  has  choked  up  the  well,  and 
thrown  ashes  on  the  sward, — Pickwick,  who  comes  before 
you  to-day  with  his  heartless  tomato-sauce  and  warm- 
ing-pans,— Pickwick,  still  rears  his  head  with  unblush- 
ing effr6nter>',  and  gazes  without  a  stgh  on  the  ruin  he 
has  made !  l)d mages,  gentlemen,  heavy  damages,  is  the 
only  punishment  with  which  you  can  visit  him, — tln» 
only  recompense  you  can  award  to  my  client!  And  for 
those  damages  she  now  appeals  to  an  enVightened,  a  high- 
mmded,  a  righf-fleling,  a  conscientious,  a  dispassionate,  a 
sifmpafhizing,  a  conthnplative  jury  of  her  civilized  coiintry- 

""  '<   '  DiCKBNg. 


n.    MEDIAN  STRESS. 

1.  The  median  stress  corresponds  to  the  "swell"  in 
music.  It  is  strongest  in  thje  middle  of  a  sound  or  a 
word.  It  is  adapted  to  the  expression  of  harmonious 
and  poetic  ideas. 

2.  "  It  is,**  says  Russell,  "  the  natural  utterance  of  those 
'•motions  wliich  allow  the  intermingling  of  reflection  and 
Ni'ntiment  with  expression,  and  wliich  purposely  dwell 
on  sound,  a,s  a  means  of  enhancing  their  effect. 

3.  "This  mode  <>f  shu-.-  ;<  ohq  of  the  most  important 


166  SCHOOL     l.,.wv    i.    iJOX. 

ill  its  effect  on  language,  whether  in  the  form  of  speak- 
ing or  of  reading.  Destitute  of  its  ennobling  and  ex- 
pansive sound,  the  recitation  of  poetry  sinks  into  the 
style  of  dry  prose,  the  language  of  devotion  loses  its 
sacredness,  the  tones  of  oratory  lose  their  power  over 
the  heart. 

4.  "Then*  is  great  danger,  however,  of  this  natural 
beauty  of  vocal  expression  being  converted  into  a  fault 
by  being  overdone.  The  habit  recognized  under  the  name 
of  mouthinfj  has  an  excessively  increased  and  prolonged 
median  swell  for  one  of  its  chief  characteristics.  In 
this  shape,  it  becomes  a  great  deformity  in  utterance, — 
partieularly  when  combined  with  what  is  no  infrequent 
concomitant,  the  faidty  mode  of  voice  known  as  chant- 
ing or  singing.  Like  sweetness  among  stivors,  this  truly 
agreeably  quality  of  sound  becomes  distasteful  or  dis- 
gusting when  in  the  least  degree  excessive. 

5.  *'  The  practice  of  median  stress,  therefore,  requires 
very  close  attention.  The  spirit  of  poetry  and  the  lan- 
guage of  eloquence, — ^the  highest  effects  of  human  ut- 
terance,— ^render  it.  indispensable  as  an  accomplishment 
in  elocution.  But  a  chaste  and  discriminating  ear  is 
requisite  to  decide  the  just  degree  of  its  extent. 

6.  "Median  stress  has  the  form  of  effusive  utterance 
in  sublime,  solemn,  and  pathetic  emotions:  it  becomes 
expulsive^  in  those  which  combine  force  with  grandeur, 
as  in  admiration,  courage,  authoritative  command,  indig- 
nation, and  similar  feelings.  But  its  effect  is  utterly  in- 
compatible with  the  abruptness  of  explosion.  Its  com- 
paratively musical  character  adapts  it,  with  special  felicity 
of  effect,  to  the  melody  of  verse,  and  the  natural  swell 
of  poetic  expression." 

7.  Median  stress  requires  a  prolongation  of  vowel  and 
liquid  soimds;  it  is  a  conti'ast  to  the  abruptness  of  the 
radical  stress.  It  prevails  in  combination  with  "pure 
tone"  and  the  "orotund." 


Median  Stress  Drill. 

1.  Repeat,  tliree  times,  the  long  vocals,  a,  . .  .: 
1)   With   moderate    force   and    effusive   median    stress. 

(2)   With  expidsive  median   stress.      (3)  Witli  iiK'n^ased 
force  and  expulsive  median  stress. 

2.  In  the  same  manner  repeat,  foui*  times,  the  vocals, 

I ,  ;i.  ii,  a,  6,  o. 

0.  Coimt  from  oiw  to  twcutv,  with  soft  force  and 
effusive  median  stress;  with  loud  forqe  and  expidsive 
median  stress. 

4.  Repeat,  three  Liiucs,  the  toUowiiii:  »«»iu:>.  with  ex- 
pidsive median  stress:   aU,  call,  ball,  tall,  hall,  pall. 

").  Repeat  four  times,  in  monotone,  with  full  swell  on 
the  prolonged  /,  the  following:  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells, 
hells. 

I'iX^vMPLEs  OP  Median  Stress. 

1.  liull  oil,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean,  roll! 

2.   Ye  winds,  ye  unseen  currents  of  the  air, 
Softly  ye  played  a  few  brief  hours  ago. 

3.  The  ciufew  tolls  the  kneU  of  parting  day. 

4.  Hail!   lioly  light,  offspring  of  heaven,  first-bom. 

5.  The  ii\.  1^.  lilx -,    lud  ocean,  all  stood  still. 

G.   Sweet  Auburn!   loveliest  village  of  the  plain. 

7.   Was  it  the  chime  of  a  tiny  bell 

That  came  so  sweet  to  my  dreaming  ear! 
Like  the  silvery  tones  of  a  fairy's  shell 
That  he  winds  on  the  beach,  so  mellow  and  clear. 

8.    Ring  out  the  old,  ring  in  the  new. 
Ring,  happy  bells,  across  the  snow. 


168  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

9.   O  Lord,  thou  art  clothed  with  honor  and  majesty. 

10.    And  where  her  sweetest  theme  she  chose, 

A  soft,  responsive  voice  was  heard  at  every  close, 
And  Hope,  enchanted,  smiled  and  waved  her  golden  hair. 

11.  These  are  thy  glorious  works,  parent  of  good, 
Abnighty!   Thine  this  universal  frame. 

12.  Then  the  angel  threw  up  his  glorious  hands  to 
the  heaven  of  heavens,  sajdng:  "End  is  there  none  to 
the  universe  of  God.     Lo!  also,  Ihere  is  no  beginning." 

13.  Peal  out  evermore. 

Peal  as  ye  pealed  of  yore. 
Brave  old  bells,  on  each  Sabbath  day. 

14.  I  heard  the  bells  on  Christmas  Day 
Their  old,  familiar  carols  play. 

And  wild  and  sweet. 
The  words  repeat 
Of  peace  on  earth,  good- will  t<)  men! 

15.  Thou,  too,  sail  on,  O  Ship  of  State! 
Sail  on,  O  Union,  strong  and  great! 

16.    These  struggling  tides  of  life  that  seem 
In  wajnvard,  aimless  course  to  tend. 
Are  eddies  of  the  mighty  stream 
That  rolls  to  its  appointed  end.  bryam. 

17.    From  the  wall  into  the  sky. 

From  the  roof  along  the  spii*e; 
Ah,  the  souls  of  those  that  die 

Are  but  sunbeams  lifted  higher.     LoxorKLLow. 

18.    So  shaU  our  voice  of  sovereign  choice 
Swell  the  deep  bass  of  duty  done, 
And  strike  the  key  of  time  to  be, 
When  God  and  man  shall  speak  as  oue! 

Whittxer, 


SCHOOL    LLOCLTIOX.  169 

10.    Ah,   distinctly    I    reiueniber,    it   was    in   the   bleak 

December, 
And  each  separate  dying  ember  wrought  its  ghost 

upon  the  floor. 
Eagerly  I  wished  the  morrow:  vainly  I  had  sought 

to  borrow 
From  my  books  surcease  of  sorrow — sorrow  for  the 

lost  Lenore — 
For  the  rare  and  radiant  maiden  whom  the  angels 

name  Lenore- 

Nameless  here  for  evermore.  puk. 

20.    O  Baljie,  dainty  Babie  Bell, 

How  fail*  she  gi*ew  fi-om  day  to  day! 

What  woman-nature  filled  her  eyes — 

What  poetry  within  them  lay! 

Those  deep  and  tender  twilight  eyes^ 

So  full  of  meaning,  pure  and  bright. 

As  if  she  yet  stood  in  the  light 

Of  those  oped  gates  of  Paradise.  alurkh. 

•_*1.     The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls 

And  snowj'  summits  old  in  story: 
The  long  hght  shakes  across  the  lakes, 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory. 
Blow,  bugle,  blow;  set  the  wild  echoes  fl^'ing; 
Blow,  l)ugle;  answer,  echoes — djing,  dying,  dying. 

Tkxxyson. 

_!J.    By  the  rude  bridge  that  arched  the  flood, 
Their  flag  to  April's  breeze  unfurled, 
ii(*i-e  once  the  embattled  farmers  stood, 
And  fired  the  shot  lieurd  round  the  world. 

Embmox. 

-o.    l>owii  the  dark  fuiiuv,  ilir«mgh  long  generations. 
The  echoing  sounds  grow  fainter,  and  then  cease; 
iVpd  like  a  bell,  with  solemn,  sweet  vibrations, 
I  hear  once  more  the  voice  of  Christ  say,  "Peace!" 


170  <(  IKMJL   i:i.u(  1   ii  <)X. 

Peace!   and  no  lunger  from  iis  hraz.n  portals 
The  blast  of  "War's  great   (.rLi.-m  sliakcs  tlir  .ski.  s! 

r.i;i   iM-ainilul  as  songs  of  thf  i!iiiiH.r];tl< 

Th'     !it)!y    !i;-  Indit-.   of  ]m\-('  ari.-c.  >  . 

-4.    Voutli  long.s  and  manhood  strives,  I'ut   ai:.'  )<  mm  !:i- 
hci-s — 

l»y    ihc   i-akf(l-uj)  ashes  <it'   l' 
^t]):  -  ihiii   iiands  a))ov(.'  tin*  \\ mi' iuiil:'  «'iiil)<'r> 

'1   ^  .1111  ii>  creepinj^  lif('-})h»n(l  till  ilu-  last. 

But  O  my  gentle  siRt«is!  o  ; 

These  tlii  '  \  oi  [i>]\'>  r^'lcax-: 

These  feel.  '    i 

The  ta^k  ;")•  j,ra.-<  . 

Time  claims  his  trilmtv:  siltn-  ■: 

T.t't   in.-  !ii»i  '      --ijulit-rmg  lyrcj 

'rii«)ii':h   to  vn  ,  still  hoholdcn. 

The  cuifew  t.  Is  im  — < 

L'.').    ().  a  "1   is  tlir  ri\ 

As  It  runs  tiiruugn  the  realm  ol  tcai-s. 
With  a  faultless  rhythm  and  a  musical  rli\  nu-. 
And  a  Ixniiulk'ss  sweep  and  surge  suhliiiu*. 

As  it  blends  wi'      '      f'      in  of   Years.       tavlok. 

[nui(!  this  "/,  (iikI 

What  a  W(.rlu  <  their  foriMls! 

Tiirouu'li  the  l»aliiiy  ai;  iit.  liow  thi'V  rijnj  out  tlieir 

delight  I 

From  the  molten-golden  )j<')Tes, 

All  in  tunc. 
What  a  li(iiiid  ditty  tii.ats 
To  the  tm-tle-dove  tli.u  listt'iis.  while  she  gloats 
On  the  moon ! 


SC   II    .    M    .   1.         1.    I.I    M       I        1      M    .   \    .  171 

Oil,  from  out  tliu  souiidiug  cells, 
What  a  irush  of  euphony  voluminously  wMls! 

I  low  i;   swells,  how  it  dwells 
On  tilt'  Future!     How  it  tells  of  the  rapture  tlmt  iniixls 
I'o  the  swinging  and  the  ringing  of  the  bells,  bells,  bells, 
<  ►f  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  belL^  bells,  bells,  bells— 
To  tlu'  rhMuing  and  the  chiming  of  the  bells.         i'„k. 

'J.1.      INVOCATION  TO  LIGHT. 

\_Hvad  the  following  selection  with  orotund  quality,  alow  mocviinnl, 
ami  strong  force. "^ 

Hail!   holy  Light — offspring  of  Heaven,  first-born, 
^r  of  the  Eternal,  co-eternal  beamj 
May  I  express  thee  unblamedf  since  (lod  is  light. 
And  never  but  in  unapproached  light. 
Dwelt  from  eternity — dwelt  then  in  thee. 
Bright  effluence  of  bright  Essence  increate! 
Or  heai*'st  thou,  rather,  pure  ethereal  stream, 
Whose  fountain  who  shall  tell? — Before  the  sun. 
Before  the  heavens  thou  wert,  and,  at  the  voice 
Of  0(xl,  as  with  a  mantle,  didst  invest 
The  rising  world  of  waters,  dark  and  deep. 
Won  from  the  void  and  formless  infinite.         miltox. 

--.      LIBERTY   «)K  TUF.    I'KESS. 

L  The  liberty  of  the  press  is  the  highest  safeguard 
\i)  aU  free  govenmient.  Ours  could  not  exist  without 
It  is  like  a  gi'eat,  exidting,  and  abounding  river. 
11  IS  fed  by  the  dews  of  heaven,  which  distill  their 
weetest  tlrops  to  form  it.  It  gushes  from  the  rill,  as 
it  breaks  from  the  deep  caverns  of  the  earth.  It  is 
augmented  by  a  thousand  affluents,  that  dash  from  th(^ 
mountain  top,  to  sepamte  again  into  a  thousand  boun- 
teous and  irrigating  streams  ai'ound. 

2.  On  its  ])road  ])osom  it  Ixnirs  a  thousand  barks. 
There  genius  spreads  its  purj;)liug  sail.  Then^  poetry 
.li])s    its    silver    oar.      '!''■-"•■    ■"■*^.    invention,    discover}', 


172  SCHOOL    ELOLLTIUN. 

science,  morality,  religion,  may  safely  and  securely  float. 
It  wanders  through  every  land.  It  is  a  genial,  cordial 
source  of  thought  and  inspiration,  whatever  it  touches, 
whatever  it  surrounds.  Upon  its  borders  there  grows 
every  flower  of  grace,  and  every  fruit  of  truth.       juurn. 

29.      FROM   THE  BOOK  OP  PSALMS. 

Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul.  O  Lord  my  God,  Thou 
art  very  great;  Thou  art  clothed  with  honor  and  majesty: 
who  coverest  thyself  with  light  as  with  a  garment;  who 
stretchest  out  the  heavens  like  a  curtain;  who  layeth 
the  beams  of  His  chambers  in  the  waters;  who  maketh 
the  clouds  His  chariot;  who  walketh  upon  the  wings  of 
the  wind;  who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  that 
it  should  not  be  removed  forever. 

30.  ossiak's  address  to  the  sun. 
O  thou  that  rollest  above,  roimd  as  the  sliield  of  my 
fathers!  whence  are  thy  beams,  O  sun!  thy  everlasting 
light!  Thou  comest  forth  in  thy  awful  beauty;  the 
stars  hide  themselves  in  the  sky;  the  moon,  cold  and 
pale,  sinks  in  the  western  wave.  But  thou  thyself 
mo  vest  alone:  who  can  be  a  companion  of  thy  course? 

III.    VANISHING   STRESS. 

1.  The  vanishing  or  terminal  stress  is  used  when  the 
force  of  voice  hangs  upon  the  final  part  of  a  word.  It 
corresponds  to  the  crescendo  in  music.  It  is  a  form  of 
stress  expressive  of  verj-  strong  emphasis,  and  is  often 
combined  with  the  rising  or  failing  circumflex. 

2.  Used  with  a  moderate  degree  of  force,  this  stress 
is  applied  in  the  expression  of  petulance,  of  pee\dsh- 
ness,  of  impatience,  of  willfulness,  and  of  querulous 
complaint;  combined  with  strong  force,  it  is  applied  to 
express  persistent  d(*termination,  astonishment,  amaze- 
ment, and  horror. 


?;rTTooT,    I  i.tM  rTioN".  173 

3.  (^)ncemiiig  tlie  use  of  this  stress,  Prof.  Russell 
remarks;  "Like  all  other  forms  of  impassioned  utter- 
ance which  are  strongly  mai'ked  in  the  usages  of  natural 
liabit,  this  property  of  voice  is  indispensable  to  appropri- 
ate elocution,  whether  in  speaking  or  reading.  Without 
'vanisliing  stress,'  declamation  will  sometimes  lose  its 
manly  energy  of  detennined  will,  and  become  feeble  song 
to  the  ear.  High- wrought  resolution  can  never  be  ex- 
j)ressed  without  it.  Even  the  language  of  protest,  though 
respectful  in  form,  needs  the  aid  of  the  right  degree  of 
vanishing  stress,  to  intimate  its  sincerity  and  its  firm- 
ness of  determination,  as  well  as  its  depth  of  conviction. 

4.  "But  when  we  extend  our  views  to  the  demands 
of  lyric  and  dramatic  poetry,  in  which  high-wrought 
emotion  is  so  abundant  an  element  of  effect,  the  full 
command  of  this  projMjrty  of  voice,  as  the  natural  utter- 
ance of  extreme  passion,  l:)ecomes  indispensable  to  true, 
natural,  and  appropriate  style." 

EXAMPLES. 

IThc  italicized  trord.i  hare  the  ranisliim/  utress,  and  are  marl'ed  irith 
the  circumflex  iit fleet iou.'\ 

1.  I  know  we  do  tUd  mean  to  submit.  We  never  shdll 
submit. 

2.  Earth  may  hide,  waves  engulf,  fire  consume  us, 
But  they  sMll  not  to  sJdrery  doom  us. 

3.  I'll  have  my  bdnd;  I  will  not  hear  thee  spe^ik: 
I'll  have  my  bond:  and  therefore  speak  no  nidre. 

4.  But  they  shdll  go  to  school.  Don't  tell  me  they 
sJUkihln^t.  (You  are  so  dggrarathig,  Caudle,  you'd  spoil 
the  temper  of  an  dngel!)  They  shdll  go  to  school:  mark 
that!  and  if  they  get  their  deaths  "f  ''«.1«1.  it's  not  mil 
fault;   /  didn^t  lend  the  itmbrPlla. 

5.  "Be  tliat  word  our  sign  of  parting,  bird  or  ftendf^^  I 
shrieked,  upstarting; 


174  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

"Get   thee   Mck   into   tlie   tempest,   and    the    iii«;lii  > 
Plutoniau  8h6re! 
L^ve  no  black  plume  as  a  token  of  that  lie  thy 

soul  hath  spoken! 
L4ave  my  loneliness  unbroken!  quU  the  bust  abo\« 

my  ddor! 
Take  thy  bSak  from  out  my  /,///.  :ti,<l  take  ihy  lorm 
from  off  my  door!" 

Quoth  the  Raven,  "Nevermore.'^ 

6.      FROM  OJIATTAX'S  SPEECH. 

Here  I  stand  for  imj^eachment  or  trial.  I  df'ire  accu 
sation!  I  (Jefj  the  honorable  gentleman!  1  defy  tli. 
government!  I  defy  their  %cMle  phdlanx!  Ijet  them  com 
fMh! 

7.     FBOIC  WEBSTER. 

On  such  occasions,  I  will  place  myself  on  the  ejctrew 
boundary  of  my  right,  and  bid  defiance  to  the  arm  that 
would  ])ush   iiH'  fi'tmi    it.. 

.-.      ....;  SEMINOLE*8  REPLY. 

I  Uathe  ye  in  my  bosom, 

I  sc6rn  ye  with  mine  eye, 
1*11  taimt  ye  with  my  latest  In  i nth. 

And  fight  ye  till  I  die.  pattkn. 

9.       RIEXZI. 

I  come  not  here  to  tdlh.    Ye  know  too  weU 
The  story  of  our  thrctUdom,    "We  are  sldves  ! 
The  bright  sun  rises  to  his  course  and  lights 
A  rdce  of  slaves!     He  sets,  and  his  last  beam 
Fdlh  on  a  slave.  mitfori.. 

10.     BRUTUS  TO  CASSIUS. 

FrHj  till  your  proud  heart  break; 

Go,  show  your  sldves  how  choleric  you  are, 

And  make  your  bondsmen  tremble.     Must  /  budge? 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  I/) 

Must  I  observe  youf    Must  I  stand  and  rro>frh 
Under  your  testy  humor f    By  the  gods. 
You  sliall  (ligesf  the  venom  of  your  spleen, 
Though  it  do  spUt  you;  for,  from  this  day  forth, 
I  11  use  you  for  my  mirth,  yea,  for  my  Idiiyhfer, 
When  .you  are  wdspish,  shakespeark. 

IV.    THOROUGH   STRESS. 

Thorough  or  through  stress  corresponds  to  the  organ 
tone  in  music.  The  force  is  ♦powerful  enough  to  per- 
vade an  entire  word  or  sound  —  the  beginning,  the 
middle,  and  the  end.    It  is  indicated  thus :  ( =  ). 

Thorough  stress  prevails  in  vehement  declamation 
and  impassioned  oratory  when  the  speaker  is  under  tin 
sway  of  intense  excitement.  It  is  also  used  in  calling 
or  shouting,  when  tlu'  voice  is  nulled  out  in  a  full  and 
steady  stream. 

Carrie<l  to  excess,  this  stress  is  characteristic  of  rant, 
Immbast,  and  the  worst  faults  of  untrained  speakers. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  Vanguard!   to  right  and  left  the  front  unfold. 

2.    Peal!   peal!   peal! 

Bells  of  brass  and  bells  of  steel. 

:J.    "To  all  the  truth  we  teU!   we  tell!^' 
Shouted  in  ecstasies  a  bell. 

4.  And  like  a  silver  clarion  rung, 

''Excelsior.^ 

'  A <lvance  your  standards !  draw  your  willing  swords. 

<>.  Forward  the  light  brigade! 

7.  Clang!  clang!  clang!  the  massive  anvils  rang. 

S.  "Ship  nhoy !  ship  ahoy!^^  shouted  the  captivin. 

y.  Shtmlder — arms!     Forward  nuirrh  !     Halt! 


176  -•    iHM.i.    KLOCUTIoX. 

10.  Chdrfje  ror  the  guns!     Charge!     Charge! 

11.  Then  rose  the  awfiil  cry,  ''Fire!  fire!  fire!^' 

12.  Halloo!  ho-o-o-o!  come  here!     HaUoo! 

13.  Hurrah!   hurrah!  for  the  fiery  fort  is  ours; 

Victoni !    Victory!    Victory! 

14.  LiWrty!   freedom!     T^Tanny  is  dead; 

Run  hence,  procbiim,  cr>'  it  about  the  streets! 

If).   Rejoice,  ye  men  of  Angiers!  ring  your  bells; 

King  John,  your  king  and  England's,  doth  approach 
C)pi»n  your  gates,  and  give  the  vict^)r8  way! 

16.  "O,  spare  my  child,  my  joy,  my  pride! 
O,  give  me  hack  my  cJuld!"  she  cried; 
''My  child!   my  ch)l(1  !^  with  so])s  and  tears, 
•She  shrieked  upon  his  callous  ears. 

17.  **Nine,''"by  the  cathedral  clock! 

Chill  the  air  with  rising  damps; 
Drearily  from  block  to  block 
In  the  gloom  the  beU-mau  tramps — 
.    ''Child  lost!     Child  lost! 
Blue  eyeSy  curly  hair, 
Pink  dre^s — child  lost!" 

18.    Body  of  turkey,  head  of  owl. 

Wings  a-droop  Like  a  rained-on  fowl, 
Feathered  and  ruffled  in  every  part., 
Skipper  Ireson  stood  in  the  cart. 
•  Scores  of  women,  old  and  young, 

Strong  of  muscle,  and  glib  of  tongue, 
Pushed  and  pulled  up  the  rocky  lane. 
Shouting  and  singing  the  shrill  refrain: 
"Here^s  Fhid  Oirson,  fur  his  horrd  horrt, 
Torr'd  aw'  futherr'd  an^  corr'd  in  a  corrt. 
By  the  women  o^  Morhl^ead!" 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  177 

1!».      FITZ-JAMES'S  DEFIANCE. 

Come  6ney  come  dll!  this  rdcJc  shall  fly 
From  its  firm  base  as  soon  as  /.  scorr. 

20.      THE  AMERICAN   FLAG. 

Flag  of  the  free  heart's  hope  and  home  I 

By  angel  hands  |  to  valor  given; 
Thy  stars  |  have  lit  the  welkin  (lome. 

And  all  thy  hiies  \  were  bom  in  heaven, 
Forher  float  |  that  standard  shht! 

Where  breathes  the  foe  \  but  falls  before  ns, 
With  FreedomKs  soil  |  beneath  our  fiet, 

And  Freedom's  banner  \  streaming  o'er  us ! 

Drake. 
21.      MOLOCH. 

He  called  so  loud,  that  all  the  hollow  deep 
Of  hell  resounded. 

' ^ Princes !    Potentates  ! 
Wiirriorti !   the  Ilovver  of  heaven,  once  yours,  now  lost. 
If  such  astonishment  as  this  can  seize  | 
Eternal  spirits;   or  have  ye  chosen  tliis  place 
To  rest  your  wearied  virtue,  for  the  ease  \  ye  find  | 
To  slumber  here,  as  in  the  vales  of  Mavenf 
Or  I  in  this  abject  pSstnre  \  have  you  sworn  | 
To  adore  the  Conqueror,  who  now  beholds  | 
Cherub  and  seraph  |  rolling  in  the  flood, 
With  scattered  arms  and  hi  signs;   till,  anon. 
His  swift  pursuers,  from  heaven's  gates  |  discern  | 
The  advdnta(jf,  and  descending,  tread  us  down  \ 
Thus  drooping;   or  witli  linked  thunderbolts  \ 
Transfix  us  to  |  the  bottom  of  this  gMf  ? 
I      '    '      vse/  or  he  forever  f)Jhn  !^^  miltok. 

lill.      I'LUORATION  OF   WEBKTEU's   UEPLY   TO   HAYNE. 

The  Bceue  in  the  Senate  Chamber  of  the  United  States,  as  "Web- 
ster delivered  this  perorution,  is  thus  described  by  C.  W.  March: 
The  cxultinjf  rush   of  f<M'lin£r  with   which  he  went  throujrh  the 


178  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

peroration  threw  a  glow  over  hU  countenance,  like  inspiration — 
eye,  brow,  each  feature,  every  line  of  his  face  seemed  touche<l  as 
with  a  celestial  fire.  The  swell  and  roll  of  his  voice  struck  upon 
the  ears  of  the  spell-bound  audience,  in  deep  and  melodiouH 
cadence,  as  wares  upon  the  shore  of  the  far-sounding  sea.  The 
Miltonic  grandeur  of  his  words  was  the  fit  exproi^sion  of  his  thought 
and  raised  his  hearers  up  to  his  theme.  His  voice,  exerted  to  its 
utmost  power,  penetrated  every  recess  and  comer  of  the  Senate — 
penetrated  even  the  ante-rooms  and  stair-ways,  as  he  pronounced 
in  the  deepest  tones  of  pathos  these  words  of  solemn  significanoo: 

J  have  not  allowed  myself,  sir,  to  look  beyond  the 
Union,  to  see  what  might  lie  hidden  in  the  dark  recess 
behind,  I  have  not  cooUy  weighed  the  chances  of  pre- 
serving liberty  when  the  bonds  that  unite  us  together 
>li.ili  l)e  broken  asunder.  I  have  not  accustomed  myself 
to  hang  over  the  precipice  of  disunion,  to  see  whether, 
with  my  short  sight,  I  can  fathom  the  depth  of  the 
abyss  below;  nor  could  I  regard  him  as  a  safe  cSunselor 
in  the  affairs  of  this  government  whose  thoughts  should 
be  mainly  bent  on  considering,  not  how  the  Union  may 
be  best  pres^rvetl,  but  how  tolerable  might  be  the  condi- 
tion of  the  people  when  it  shall  be  broken  up  and 
destroyed.  While  the  Union  lasts,  we  have  high,  excit- 
ing, grdtifying  prospects  spread  out  before  us,  for  ii> 
and  our  children.  Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to  penetrate 
the  veil.  God  grant  that,  in  my  day  at  least,  that  cur- 
tain may  not  rise!  God  grant  that  on  my  vision  never 
may  be  opened  what  lies  behhid!  When  my  eyes  shall 
be  turned  to  behold ,  for  the  last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven^ 
may  I  not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and  dishonored 
fragments  of  a  once  glorious  Union  ;  on  States  dissevered, 
disc6rdant,  belligerent;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds, 
or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal  blood!  Let  their 
last  feeble  and  lingering  glance,  rather,  behold  the 
gorgeous  Ensign  of  the  repuhlic,  now  known  and  honored 
throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  advanced,  its  arms 
and   trophies   streaming   in   their   original   luster,  not  a 


SCHOOL    ELUCLTIUX.  179 

stripe  erased  or  polluted ,  nor  a  single  stdr  obscured; 
1  tearing  for  its  motto,  no  such  miserable  interrogatory  fis, 
What  is  all  this  worth  f^^  nor  those  other  words  of 
deUmon  and  fc)lly,  "Liberty  fffst,  and  Union  after- 
wards;^ but  herywherej  spread  all  over  in  characters  of 
lii^ng  Vight,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float 
over  the  s^a  and  over  the  Idnd,  and  in  every  wind  under 
the  whole  Mavens,  that  other  sentiment,  dear  to  every 
true  AmMcan  heart — Liberty  and  Union,  now  and  forhver, 
6ne  and  inseparable, 

23.     PERORATION     OF    BURKE'S    SPEECH     ON     THE     IMPEACHMENT    OF 
WARREN    HASTINGS. 

Of  this  famous  speech  Macaulay  says:  "The  energy  and  pathos 
of  the  great  orator  extorted  expressions  of  unwonted  admiration 
from  all;  and,  for  a  moment,  seemed  to  pierce  even  the  resolute 
heart  of  the  defendant.  The  ladies  in  the  galleries,  unaccustomed 
to  such  displays  of  eloquence,  excited  by  the  solemnity  of  the  occa- 
sion, and  perhaps  not  imwilling  to  display  their  taste  and  sensibility, 
were  in  a  state  of  uncontrollable  emotion.  Handkerchiefs  were 
pulled  out;  smelling-bottles  were  handed  round;  hysterical  sobs 
and  screams  were  heard,  and  some  were  even  carried  out  in  fits. 
At  length,  the  orator  concluded.  Raising  his  voice,  till  the  old 
arches  of  Irish  oak  resounded,  he  said: 

"I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  Commons  of  Great 
Britain  in  Parliament  assembled,  whose  parliamentary 
trust  he  has  abused. 

"  I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  Commons  of  Great 
Britain,  whose  national  character  he  has  dish6nored. 

"I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  people  of  India, 
whose  Idws,  rights,  and  liberties  he  has  subverted. 

"I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  people  of  India, 
whose  property  he  has  destroyed,  whose  country  ho  has 
laid  waste  and  dholate. 

"I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  human  ndture  itself 
which  he  has  cruelly  oiit raged,  Injured,  and  oppressed,  in 
both  s^jLBS.    And  I  impeach  him  in  the  name  and  by  the 


180 

virtue  of  those  eternal  Uiivs  of  just  at,  whit^h  ought  equally 
to  pervade  every  age,  cornDtiony  ranky  and  situation,  in 
the  icorld.^ 

V.     COMPOUND  STRESS. 

Compound  stress  is  a  coin1>iiiMtI<»n  of  the  radical  and 
the  vanishing  stress  np<  >rd.    Indeed,  it 

may  be   considered  as   a  very   emphatic   fomi   of  the 
emotional  circumflex  inflection.     It  is  applied,  like  the 
circumflex,  to  express  extreme  astonishment,  irony,  sar- 
casm, mockery,  and  contempt     It  is  the  stress  of  • 
treme  emotion. 

In  the  foUowing  examples,  the  words  upon  which  the 
compound  stress  falls  are  marked  with  the  circumflex 
inflection. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  Repeat,  three  times,  with  extreme  astonishment : 
ah!  indeed! 

2.  Repeat)  three  times,  with  strong  emphasis  and  the 
falling  circumflex:  §ve,  &le,  ftrm,  &11,  61d,  6oze. 

3.  Repeat,  with  strong  force  and  the  rising  circumflex : 
a,  e,  i,  o,  u;  the  same  with  the  falling  circumflex. 

4.    Banished  from  BSme!    What's  banished  but  set  free 
From  daily  contact  of  the  things  I  loathe  t 
He  ddres  not  touch  a  hdir  of  Catiline. 

5.  KIXO  JOHN. 

f 

Q&ne  to  be  mdrried!  gone  to  swear  a  p^ace! 

False  blood  to  false  blood  joined!  gone  to  be  friends! 

Shall  Louis  have  Blanche,  and  Blanche  these  provinces  f 

Shakespeake. 

6.  RPARTACUS. 

Is  Sparta  dead?  Is  the  old  Grecian  spiint  frozen  that 
you  do  crouch  and  cower  like  a  belabored  hound  beneath 
his  master's  Msht 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  181 

7.      JULIUS  C^SAR. 

Must  I  budget 
Must  /  observe  youf    Must  I  stand  and  crouch 
Under  your  testy  humor  f    By  the  godSj 
You  shall  digest  the  venom  of  your  spleen 
Though  it  do  split  you;  for,  from  this  day  forth, 
I'll  use  you  for  my  viirthy  yea,  for  my  Idughter 
When  you  are  wdspish!  s.iAKKspr.ARr. 

8.      FROM   ClCERO's  ACCUSATION   OP  VERRES. 

Is  it  come  to  this?  Shall  an  inferior  magistrate,  a 
governor  J  who  holds  his  whole  power  from  the  Roman 
people,  in  a  Roman  province,  within  sight  of  Italy,  hind, 
scourge,  torture  with  fire  and  red-hot  plates  of  iron, 
and  at  last  put  to  the  infamous  death  of  the  cross,  a 
R6man  citizen  t 


VI.    INTERMITTENT   STRESS,  OR  THE  TREMOR. 

1.  Intermittent  stress,  or  the  tremor,  is  the  tremulous 
force  of  voice  upon  a  sound  or  a  word.  The  tremor  is 
characteristic  of  the  tottering  feebleness  of  old  age,  of 
the  weakness  of  sickness,  or  of  the  tones  of  a  person 
shivering  and  trembling  with  cold,  or  ^\ith  fear. 

2.  It  naturally  occurs  in  the  utterance  of  fear,  grief, 
joy,  so))bing,  and  laughter,  when  the  emotions  are  so 
strong  as  to  enfeeble  the  flow  of  breath.  In  extreme 
pathos,  the  voice  often  trembles  or  quickens  with  emotion. 

3.  This  form  of  stress  must  be  very  delicately  appli»'(l, 
for,  in  excess,  it  becomes  ridiculous. 

4.  Concerning  the  appropriate  application  of  this  form 
of  stress.  Prof.  Russell  remarks:  "In  the  reading  or  the 
recitation  of  lyric  and  dramatic  poetry,  this  function  of 
voice  is  often  required  for  full,  vivid,  and  touching 
expression.  Without  its  appeals  to  sympathy,  and  its 
peculiar  power  over  the  heart,  many  of  the  most  beau- 


1H2  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

tiful  and  i-..,  .....g  passages  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton 
become  dry  and  cold.  Like  the  tremolo  of  the  accom- 
plished vocalist  in  operatic  music,  it  has  a  charm,  for 
the  absence  of  which  nothing  can  atone — since  nature 
suggests  it  as  the  genuine  utterance  of  the  most  deli- 
cate and  thrilling  emotion. 

5.  "The  perfect  command  of  tremor  requires  often- 
repeated  practic*e  on  elements,  syllables,  and  words,  as 
well  as  on  appropriate  passages  of  impassioned  lan- 
guage.** 

Drill  on  Tbemob. 

1.  Inhale;  g^ive  the  tremulous  sound  of  long  a,  thus: 
a — a — a — a,  etc.,  prolonged  until  the  breath  is  exhausted. 

2.  In  a  similar  manner,  take  each  of  the  remaining 
long  vowel  sounds,  e,  i,  6,  u. 

3.  Take  a  similar  drill  on  a;  on  a;  on  o. 

Examples  of  Tremor. 

1.     OLD  AGE. 

Pity  tJis  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  man, 

Whose  trembling  limbs  have  borne  him  to  your  <lnnr. 
Whose  days  are  dicimlled  to  the  shortest  span; — 

Oh!  give  relief;   and  Heaven  will  bless  your  stor 

2.      GAFFER  GRAY. 

"Ho!   why  dost  thou  shiver  and  shake,  Gaffer  Gray! 
And  why  does  thy  nose  look  so  bluet" 
*'^T/5  the  weather  thaVs  cold, 
^Tis  I^m  grown  very  old, 
And  my  doublet  is  not  very  new;    WelUa-day  !^ 

WORJWWOXTH. 
3.      OLD  AGE. 

And  still  there  came  that  silver  tone. 

From  the  shriveled  lips  of  the  toothless  crone — 


sriTooL   KUKi  liu.N.  183 

Let  me  never  forget  to  my  dying  day 
The  tone  or  the  burden  of  her  hiy —     • 
^^ Passing  away!  passing  away!"  piebpokt. 

4.     LAUGHING  UTTERANCE. 

1.   A  fool,  a  fool,  I  met  a  fool  in  the  forest,* 
A  motley  fool,  a  miserable  varlet. 

2.   Oh!   then  I  see  Queen  Mab  hath  been  with  you. 


So  Mary  said,  and  Dora  hid  her  faee 

By  Mary.     There  was  silence  in  the  roomj 

And  all  at  once  the  old  man  burst  in  sobs: — 

"7  have  been  to  blame — to  blame!    I  have  I'illed  my  son! 

I  have  I'illed  him — but  I  loved  him — my  dear  son! 

May  God  forgive  me ! — I  have  been  to  blame. 

Kiss  me  J  my  children!"  tennyuon's  7)ora. 

6w      GOODY  BLAKE  AND  HARRT  GILL. 

She  prayed,  her  withered  hand  uprearing, 

Wliile  Harry  held  her  by  the  ann — 
^^Ood!  who  art  never  out  of  hearing, 

0  may  he  never  more  be  warm!" 
The  cold,  cold  moon  above  her  head, 

Thus  on  her  knees  did  Goody  pray: 
Young  Hany  heard  what  she  had  said, 

And  icy  cold  he  turned  away. 

No  word  to  any  man  he  utters, 

Abed  or  up,  to  young  or  oldj 
But  ever  to  himself  he  mutters, 

^^Poor  Harry  QUI  is  very  cold." 
Abed  or  up,  by  niglit  or  day, 

His  teeth  may  chatter,  chatter  still: 
Now  think,  ye  farmers  all,  I  pray. 

Of  Goody  Blake  and  Harry  Gill.      w  .msw.ktm. 


184 


The  honest  man  could  contain  himself  no  longer.  He 
caught  his  daughter  and  her  child  in  his  arms.  '*/  am 
your  father!^  cried  he,  ''young  Rip  Wtn  Winkle  once — 
old  Rip  Van  Winkh  now! — Does  nobody  know  poor  Rip 
Van  Winkler  uvtN«. 

8.      EXOCH  ARDBN. 

** Enoch,  poor  man,  was  cast  away  antl  lost." 
He,  shaking  his  gray  head  pathetically. 
Repeated  muttering,  ^^Cast  away  and  lost;^ 
Again  in  deeper  inward  whispers.  ^^Losf!^ 

!     NNYSOIf. 
li.       LlTTLh   «iKf.n  iir,>. 

They  lifted  her   up    toarfully,    they  shuddered   as  they 

said, 
"It  was  a  bitter,  bitter  night!  the  chiUi  is  trozeii  (l«  a<l. 
The  angels  sang  tlieir  greeting  for  one  more  redetiind 

from  sin. 
Men  said,  "It  was  a  bitter  night;  would  no  one  lot  Ikt 

inr 

Recapitulation  of  Stress. 

1.  lite  radical  is  the  stress  of  animation j  of  earnest- 
ness, of  assertion,  of  command,  and  of  passion. 

2.  The  median  is  the  stress  of  sentiment,  of  pathos 
and  tenderness,  of  ''"*'.  rf^^crf}^'-^.  s-uhUmity,  and  enthu- 
siasm, 

3.  Vanishitig  stress  is  the  stress  of  very  strong  em- 
phasis, of  contempt  and  disdain,  of  willfulness,  petulance, 
and  impatience. 

4.  Thorough  stress  is  the  stress  of  impassioned  oratory, 
and  intense  dramatic  expression. 

5.  The  compound  is  the  stress  of  the  circumjlex  inflec- 
tion, of  irony,  sarcasm,  confem/'f.  'nul  astonishment. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  185 

6.    The  tremor  is  the  stress  of  feebleness^  of  childishness, 

flitff   of  ffj'irf. 

Stress  Drhx. 

1.  Kadical.     Attention,  all. 

2.  Median.    All  in  one  mighty  sepulcher. 

3.  Vanishing.    All,  all  is  lost!    All  lost! 

4.  Thorough.    Come  one,  come  all! 

r>.    (  nmpound.    What  all,  are  they  all  lostt 

■'nnittent.    All  my  sons  are  dead,  all,  all  dexid! 

ExAiviPLES  OP  Stress. 

KADICAL. 

Hear  the  loud  alanim  bells — hrdzen  beUs! 

MEDIAN. 

Hear  the  mellow  wedding  bells — gdlden  bells! 

VANISHING. 

1  '11  have  my  hdnd,  and  therefore  speak  no  more. 

THOROUGH. 

Aw^e !  Arise  !  or  be  forever  fdllen. 

COMPOUND. 

OSne  to  be  married !  gone  to  swear  a  peace ! 

INTERMITTKNT. 

Pity  the  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  man 

Whose  trembling  limbs  have  borne  him  to  your  door. 


186  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER  m. 
MOVEMENT 


Introductory. 

1.  The  three  leading  divisions  of  movement,  rate,  or 
time,  in  reading,  are  slow,  moderate,  and  fast.    These 
distinctions  are,  for  convenience,  subdivided  as  follow- 
1.   Moderate  (corresponding,  in  music,  to  andante),    l 
Fast  (allegro),    3.  Very  fast  {presto),    4.  Slow  (adagio 
5.   Very  slow  (largo). 

2.  Different  kinds  of  prose  and  verse  require  differ 
ent  rates  of  movement,  but  the  general  principle  that 
governs  all  reading  or  speaking  may  bo  stated  as  fol- 
lows: Read  slowly  enough  for  your  hr„n.r<  fo  eonqn-e- 
hettdy  fully  and  easily,  what  is  read 

3.  Oood  extemporaneous  speakers  gtneraUy,  iMve  a  slow 
and  deliberate  utterance,  because  they  take  time  to  think 
what  to  say.  They,  also,  give  their  hearers  time  to  think 
of  what  is  said  by  the  speaker. 

4.  The  habit  of  slow  reading  may  be  acquired,  not 
by  a  drawling,  hesitating  utterance,  but  by  observing 
rhetorical  and  grammatical  pauses  j  by  prolonging  vocal 
and  liquid  sounds;  and  by  taking  time  to  think  of  the 
meaning  of  what  is  read. 

5.  The  general  principles  governing  movement  are 
well  expressed  in  the  following  extract  from  Russell's 
** American  School  Reader:"  "Everything  tender,  or  sol- 
emn, plaintive,  or  grave,  should  be  read  with  great 
moderation.     Everything  humorous  or  sprightly,  every- 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  187 

thing  witty  or  amusing,  should  be  read  in  a  brisk  and 
lively  manner. 

6.  "Narration  should  be  generally  equable  and  flowing; 
vehemence,  firm  and  accelerated;  anger  and  joy,  rapid; 
whereas  dignity,  authority,  sublimity,  reverence,  and  awe 
should,  along  with  deeper  tone,  assume  a  slower  movement. 

7.  "Tht  movement  should,  in  every  instance,  be  adapted 
to  the  sense,  and  free  from  all  hurry  on  the*  one  hand, 
or  drawling  on  the  other. 

8.  "  The  pausing,  too,  should  be  carefully  proportioned 
to  the  movement  or  rate  of  the  voice;  and  no  change 
of  movement  from  slow  to  fast,  or  the  reverse,  should 
take  place  in  any  clause,  unless  a  change  ol  emotion  is 
imphed  in  the  language  of  the  piece." 

Movement  Drill. 

1.  Repeat,  three  times,  the  long  vocals,  a,  e,  i,  o,  ii: 
(1)  With  low  pitch  and  very  slow  movement.  (2)  With 
middle  pitch  and  slow  movement.  (3)  With  moderate 
movement.  (4)  With  fast  movement.  (5)  With  very 
fast  movement. 

2.  Count  from  one  to  twenty:  (1)  With  slow  move- 
ment. (2)  With  moderate  movement.  (3)  With  fast 
movement. 

3.  Repeat,  with  moderate  movement — 

The  day  is  done,  and  the  darkness 
Falls  from  the  wings  of  night 

As  a  feather  is  wafted  downwards 
From  an  eagle  in  his  flight. 

I.    Moderate  Movement. 

Moderate  movement  is  the  characteristic  rate  in  the 
reading  of  didacrtic,  descriptive,  or  narrative  composition, 
and  of  the  poetry  of  sentiment. 


188  SCHOO-  '   UTION. 

1.        KKULlNh     .-«   r..>r.iiy. 

The  great  charm,  however,  of  English  .scienery,  is  the 
moral  feeling  that  seems  to  ])en'ade  it.  It  is  associated 
in  the  mind  witli  ideas  of  drdet-j  of  qulety  of  sober,  well- 
established  prhwiphify  of  hoary  magey  and  reven»nd  n).s(om. 
Everj'thing  seems  to  be  the  growth  of  ages  <^f  regular 
and  peaceful  eidstence.  The  neighboring  vlUmjey  \^'ith 
its  venerable  c6ttages,  it«  public  r/r/Vw,  sheltered  by  ir^esy 
under  which  the  forefathers  of  the  present  race  have 
sported;  the  antique  family  mansion,  standing  apart  in 
some  little  rural  domdin,  but  looking  down  vdth  a  pro- 
tecting air  on  the  surrounding  8c4tie;  all  these  common 
features  of  English  landscape  eWnce  a  calm  and  settled 
secHritijy  a  hereditary'  transmission  of  home-bred  virtues 
and  local  attdchnient%  that  speak  deeply  and  touchinghj 
for  the  inonil  character  of  tlie  nation.  uvixu. 

2.      THE  SEASONS  IN  SWEDEN. 

I  must  not  forget  the  suddenly  changing  sedsons  of 
the  northern  clime.  There  is  no  long  and  lingering 
spring  unfolding  leaf  and  blossom  one  by  one;  no  long 
and  lingering  autumn,  pompous  with  many-colored  leaves 
and  the  glow  of  Indian  summers.  But  winter  and  sum- 
mer are  wonderful^  and  pass  into  each  other.  The  quail 
has  hardly  ceased  piping  in  the  com,  when  winter,  from 
the  folds  of  trailing  clouds,  sows  broadcast  over  the 
land,  sn6w,  {deles,  and  rattling  hail. 

The  days  wane  apace.  Ere  long  the  sun  hardly  rises 
above  the  horizon,  or  does  not  rise  at  all.  The  moon 
and  the  stai-s  shine  through  the  dky;  only,  at  noon,  they 
are  pale  and  icdn,  and  in  the  southern  sin'  a  red,  fiery 
glotv,  as  of  sunset,  bums  along  the  horizon,  and  then 
goes  out.  And  pleasantly,  under  the  silver  moon,  and 
under  the  silent,  solemn  stdrs,  ring  the  steel  shoes  of  th«' 
skaters  on  the  froz'-'   -'-".  -^-^l    ..A.^-....  nnd  the  sound  of 

WilS.  LOHQFELLOW. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  189 

n.    Fast   Movement. 

Fast,  or  quick,  movement,  is  the  characteristic  rate  in 
the  expression  of  mirth,  fun,  humor,  gladness,  joy,  and 
haste. 

EXAMPLES. 

1 .      PAUL  BF.VERE's  ride. 

A  hurry  of  hoofs  in  a  village  street, 

A  shape  in  the  moouUyht,  a  bulk  in  the  ddrJcj 

And  l)eneath,  from  the  pebbles,  in  passing,  a  spark 

Struck  out  by  a  steed  that  flies  fearless  and  fl6et: 

That  was  lUl !    And  yet,  through  the  gloom  and  the  light, 

The  fate  of  a  nation  was  riding  that  night j 

And  the  spdrU  struck  out  by  that  stfeed,  in  his  flighty 

Bandied  the  land  into  fldme  with  its  h^at.        lonofellow. 

2.  l'  alt.ec.ro. 

Haste  thee,  njinph,  and  brinir  witli  thee 
JPst  and  youthful  Jdllity, 
Quips,  and  cn)nksj  and  wanton  w}le^f 
Ndds,  and  bhJcs,  and  wreathed  smiles 
Such  as  hang  on  HMs  cheek. 
And  love  to  live  in  dimple  sl^ekj 
Sport  that  wrinkled  Care  derides, 
And  Ldughter  liolding  both  his  sides. 
Come,  and  trip  it  as  ye  go 
On  the  light  fantastic  toe; 
And  in  thy  right  hand  lead  with  thee 
The  mountain  nymphy  sweet  lAbertg.  mh.toh. 

3.  ONCE  MORE. 

"Will  I  comet"    That  is  pleasant  1     I  beg  to  inquire 
If  the  gun  that  I  cany  has  iver  missed  fire! 
And  which  was  the  muster-n)ll — mention  but  6ne — 
That  missed  your  old  comrade  who  carries  the  giin ! 

You  see  me  as  always,  my  hand  on  the  lock, 
The  cap  on  the  nipple,  the  hammer  full  cock. 


190  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

It  is  rustijy  some  tell  ine;  I  heed  not  the  scoff; 
It  is  battered  and  hrmsed,  but  it  always  goes  6ff! 

"Is  it  UadedV    VM  Ut  you!    What  ddesnH  it  hold? 
Rammed  full  to  the  muzzle  with  memories  unt<)ld; 
Why,  it  scares  me  to  ftre,  lest  the  pieces  should  fly 
Like  the  cdnnons  that  burst  on  the  Fourth  of  July! 

HOUIM. 

4.     RHTME  OP  THE  BAIL. 

Singing  through  the  fdrests, 

Rattling  over  ridges, 
Shooting  under  4rches, 

Rumbling  over  bridges; 
Whizzing  through  the  m6untain8) 

Buzzing  o'er  tlie  v&le, 
Bl^  me!  this  is  pleasant, 

Biding  on  the  riil!  saxz. 

5.      THE  MAT  QUEEN. 

You  must  wake  and  call  me  early,  call  me  early,  mother 

dear; 
To-morrow 'U  be  the  happiest  time  of  all  the  glad  New 

Year; 
Of  all  the  glad  New  Year,  mother,  the  maddest,  merriest 

day; 
For  I'm  to  be   Queen   o'  the   May,  mother,  I'm  to  be 

Queen  o'  the  May.  tskktsoit. 

6.      THE  MESSAGE. 

The  muster-place  is  Lanrick  mead; 
Speed  forth  the  signal!    Norman,  speed! 
The  summons  dread  brooks  no  delay. 
Stretch  to  the  race— away !  away!  scott. 

.       7.      THE  SUMMONS. 

Come  as  the  winds  come,  when  forests  are  rended; 
Come  as  the  waves  come,  when  navies  are  stranded. 
Faster  come,  faster  come,  faster  and  faster: 
Chief,  vaissal,  page,  and  groom,  tenant  and  master. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  191 

Fast  they  come,  fast  they  come;  see  how  they  gather! 
Wide  waves  the  eagle  plume,  blended  with  heather. 
Cast  your  plaids,  draw  your  blades,  forward  each  man  set; 
Pibroch  of  Donuil  Dhu,  knell  for  the  onset!  scorr. 

8.     THE  SMILING  LISTENER. 

Proeisoly.    I  see  it.    You  all  want  to  say 

That  a  tear  is  too  sad  and  a  smile  is  too  gay; 

You  could  stand  a  faint  smile,  you  could  manage  a  sigh. 

But  you  value  your  ribs,  and  you  do  n't  want  to  cry. 

It's  awful  to  think  of — ^how  year  after  year 
With  his  piece  in  his  pocket  he  waits  for  you  herej 
No  matter  who's  missing,  there  always  is  one 
To  lug  mit  his  manuscript,  snro  as  a  gun. 

ITT.    Very  Fast  Movement. 

Very  fast  movement  is  expressive  of  hurr}%  alarm, 
confu.sion,  flight,  ecstatic  joy,  and  ungovernable  rage 
and  fur}'. 

EXAMPLIS. 

1.     MAZEPPA. 

Awdy! — aipdy! — and  on  we  ddsh! — 
Torrents  less  rapid  and  less  r^h. 

Away,  aw()y,  my  steed  and  I, 
Upon  the  pinions  of  the  iv)>id, 
AH  human  dwellings  left  behind; 

We  sped  like  meteors  through  the  sJfc^, 
When  with  its  crackling  sound  the  night 
Is  chequer<'(|  witli  t)i«'  Tiorthorn  light.  btsoh. 


Sisters!   hh^ce^  with  spurs  «>!'  sithd! 

Each  her  thundering /rl/c/iiow  wield; 
Each  bestride  her  sable  sihd; 

E^rry!  hurry  to  the  fikld. 


192  S(?HOOL    KLO(    I   T!" 

3.     PLIGHT. 

Forth  from  the  pass  in  tumult  driven, 
Like  chaff  before  the  wind  of  heaven, 

The  drchery  appear; 
For  l)fe!  for  life!  their  flight  they  ply; 
While  shrink,  and  sh6ut,  and  bdttlo-ory, 
And  pMids  and  ])6nnets  waWng  high, 
And  br6ad8w<)nls  flashing  to  the  sky, 

Are  maddening  in  the  r^ar.  srorr. 

4.      OOOD  NEW8. 

I  sprang  to  the  stirrup,  and  Joris,  and  h^; 
/  galloped,  Dirck  gjilloped,  we  galloped  all  thr^e; 
^^Good  sphd!'^  cried  the  watch  as  the  gate-bolts  undi.  v 
^^Sphd!^^  ec^hoed  the  wall  to  us  galloping  thr6ugli. 
Behind  shut  the  p6stem;  the  lights  sank  to  r^st. 
And  into  the  midnight  we  galloped  abreast. 

Not  a  word  to  each  6ther;  we  kept  the  great  p6ce, 
N^k  by  n^k,  stride  by  stride,  never  changing  our  pl^( 
I  turned  in  my  saddle  and  made  its  girths  tight, 
Then  shortened  each  stirrup  and  set  the  pique  right, 
Rebuckled  the  ch6ck-sti*ap,  chained  slacker  the  bit, 
Nor  galloped  less  steadily  Roland  a  whit.  bbownisg. 

5.      HOW  THE  OLD  HORSE  WON   THE  BET. 

"Bring  forth  the  horse P    Alas!   he  showed 

Not  like  the  one  Mazeppa  rode; 

Scant-maned,  sharp-backed,  and  shaky-kneed. 

The  wreck  of  what  was  once  a  steed; 

Lips  thin,  eyes  hollow,  stiff  in  joints, 

Yet  not  without  his  knowing  points. 

"Oo/^^ — Through  his  ear  the  summons  stung, 

As  if  a  battle-trump  had  rung; 

The  slumbering  instincts  long  unstirred 

Start  at  the  old  familiar  word; 

It  thrills  like  flame  through  every  limb — 

Wliat  mean  his  twenty  years  to  him? 


SCHOOL  Ti(;N.  id: 

The  savage  blow  his  rider  dealt 

Fell  on  his  hollow  flanks  unfelt; 

The  spnr  that  pricked  his  staring  hide 

Unlieeded  tore  his  bleeding  side; 

Alike  to  him  ai*e  spur  and  rein — 

He  steps  a  five-year-old  again! 

Before  the  quarter-pole  was  passed, 

Old  Hirara  said,  "He's  going  fast/' 

Long  ere  the  quarter  was  a  half, 

The  chuckling  crowd  had  ceased  to  laugh  j 

Tighter  his  frightened  jockey  clung 

As  in  a  mighty  stride  he  swung. 

The  gravel  flying  in  his  track, 

His  neck  stretched  out,  his  eais  lii-i   iack, 

His  tail  extended  all  the  while 

Behind  him  like  a  rat- tail  file! 

Off  went  a  shoe — away  it  spun, 

Shot  like  a  bullet  from  a  gun; 

The  quaking  jockey  shapes  a  prayer 

From  scnips  of  oaths  he  used  to  swear  j 

He  drops  his  whip,  he  drops  his  rein, 

He  clutches  fiercely  for  a  mane; 

He'll  lose  his  hold — he  sways  and  reels — 

Hell  slide  beneath  those  tnimpling  heels  1 

But  like  the  sable  steed  that  bore 

The  spectral  lover  of  Lenore, 

His  nostrils  snorting  foam  and  fire, 

No  stretch  his  bony  limbs  can  tire; 

And  now  the  stand  ho  rushes  by. 

And  "Stop  him!   stop  him!"  is  the  cry. 

Stand  back!  he's  only  just  begun — 

He's  having  out  throe  heats  in  one! 

Now  for  the  finish!     At  the  turn, 

The  old  horse — all  the  rest  astern — 

Gomes  swinging  in,  with  easy  trot; 

By  Jovo!  he's  distanced  all  the  lot! 

IS 


194  scno(»i.    i;  i.<  M'UTioN. 

IV.    Slow  Movement. 

Slow  movement  prevails  in  the  utterance  of  praise 
and  adoration,  and  in  all  expression  when  the  mind  i« 
under  the  influence  of  meditation,  grief,  melanchoh. 
grandeur,  sublimity,  vastness,  or  power.  It  is  the 
characteristic  rate  of  thoughtfid  and  powerful  oratory. 
In  slow  movement,  the  rhetorical  pauses  are  long,  and 
the  voice  dwells  on  the  liquid  and  the  long  vowel 
sounds. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  ASTRONOMY. 

(feneration  after  generation  has  rolled  awdy^  age  after 
age  has  swept  silently  bp;  but  each  has  swelled,  by  its 
contribiitions,  the  stream  of  disc6very.  Mysterious 
mdvements  have  been  unraveled j  mighty  laws  have  been 
reveled;  ponderous  orbs  have  been  weighed;  dne  barrier 
after  another  has  given  way  to  the  force  of  intellect; 
until  the  mind,  majestic  in  its  strength,  has  movinted, 
st^p  by  st^p,  up  the  rocky  height  of  its  self -built 
pyramid,  from  whose  star-crowned  summit  it  looks  out 
upon  the  grandeur  of  the  universe  self -clothed  with  the 
prescience  of  a  Odd.  mitchili. 

2.  THE  RAVEN, 

Ah,  distinctly  I  remember,  it  was  in  the  bleak  December, 
And  each  separate  d}dng  ember  wrought  its  ghost  upon 

the  floor: 
Eagerly  I  wished  the  morrow; — vainly  I  had  sought  to 

borrow 
From  my  books  surcease  of  sorrow — sorrow  for  the  lost 

Lenore — 
For  the  rare  and  radiant  maiden  whom  the  angels  name 

Lenore — 

Nameless  here  for  evermore. 

POE. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  195 

3.     THB  ANCIENT  MARINER. 

Alone,  alone,  all,  all  alone. 

Alone  on  the  wide,  wide  sea; 
And  never  a  saint  took  pity  on 

My  soul  in  agony. 

The  many  men,  so  beautiful! 

And  they  all  dead  did  lie! 
And  a  thousand  thousand  slimy  things 

Lived  on — and  so  did  I. 

I  closed  my  lids  and  kept  them  close. 

Till  the  balls  like  pulses  beat; 
For  the  skj-  and  the  sen,  and  the  sea  and  the  sky 
Lay  like  a  load  on  my  weary  eye. 

And  the  dead  were  at  my  feet  ooie«idoe. 

4.     THE  HOUR  OF  DEATH. 

Leaves  have  their  time  to  fall, 
And  flowers  to  wither  at  the  north-wind's  breath, 

And  stars  to  set — but  all, 
Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  O  Death ! 

Mm.  Hemans. 
6.     TO  A  WATERFOWL. 

Whither,  midst  falling  dew. 

While  glow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of  day. 
Far  through  their  rosy  depths  dost  thou  pursue 

Thy  solitary  wayt 

Vainly  the  fowler's  eye 

Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  thee  wrong. 
As,  darkly  painted  on  the  crimson  sky. 

Thy  figure  floats  along.  betakt. 

V.    Very  Slow  Movement. 

Very  shw  movement  prevails  in  the  expression  of  deep 
emotions,  such  as  awe,  reverence,  horror,  melancholy,  and 
grief. 


196  SCHOOL    ET.OrUTTON. 

In  this  movement  the  iJicioncal  aii(i  j^rainmatical 
pauses  are  verj-  long,  and  the  vowel  and  liquid  sounds 
are  dwelt  ni)on  and  prolonged. 

The    prevailing    inflection   in   this  movement   is   tli 
monotone. 

EXA:*rPLES. 

1.  Air,  earth,  and  sea  resound  his  praise  abroad. 

2.  Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean,  roll. 

3.  Old  ocean's  gray  and  mehincholy  waste. 

4.  Childless  and  crownless  in  her  voiceless  woe. 
."».  It  thunders!    Sons  of  dust,  in  reverence  bow. 

6.  Unto  Thee  I  lift  up  mine  eyes,  O  Thou  that  dwell - 
est  in  the  heavens. 

7.  Thou  hast  all  seasons  lor  mine  own,  O  Death! 

8.  Now  o'er  the  one  half  world 

Nature  seems  dead;  and  wicked  dreams  abuse 

The  curtained  sleeper. 

Thou  sure  and  firm-set  earth, 

Hear  not  my  steps  which  way  they  walk,  for  fear 

The  very  stones  prate  of  my  whereabouts, 

And  take  the  present  horror  fi-oiu  the  time 

Which  now  suits  with  it. 

U.      CARDINAL  WOLSEY. 

Farewell,  a  long  farewell,  to  all  my  greatness. 
This  is  the  state  of  nianj   to-day  he  puts  forth 
The  tender  leaves  of  hope,  to-morrow  blossoms, 
And  bears  his  blushing  honors  thick  upon  him; 
The  third  day  comes  a  frost,  a  killing  frost; 
And  when  he  thinks,  good  easy  man,  full  surely 
His  greatness  is  a-ripening — nips  his  root. 
And  then  he  falls,  as  I  do.     I  have  ventured. 
Like  little  wanton  boys  that  swim  on  bladders, 
This  many  summers  in  a  sea  of  glor^' — 


SPHOOT.    KTiOri'TTON.  197 

But  far  beyond  my  ciepth;    my  liigli-blowu  pride 
At  length  broke  under  me;   and  now  has  left  me, 
Weary,  and  old  with  service,  to  the  mercy 
Of  a  nide  stream,  that  must  forever  liide  me. 

SUAKEtPKARK. 
10.      DREAM   OP   DARKNESS. 

The  crowd  was  famished  by  degrees.     But  two 

Of  an  enormous  city  did  survive, 

And  they  were  enemies.     They  met  beside 

The  d}dng  embers  of  an  alttu'-place, 

Where  had  been  heaped  a  mass  of  holy  things 

For  an  unholy  usage.     They  raked  up. 

And,  shivering,  scraped  with  their  cold,  skeleton  hands, 

The  feeble  ashes;   and  their  feeble  breath 

Blew  for  a  little  life,  and  made  a  flame. 

Which  was  a  mockery.     Then  they  lifted 

Their  eyes  as  it  grew  lighter,  and  beheld 

Each  other's  aspects — saw,  and  shrieked,  and  died; 

Even  of  their  mutual  hideousness  they  died, 

Unknomng  who  he  was,  upon  whose  brow 

Famine  had  written  Fiend.  Br«oj«. 

11.      HIAWATHA. 

O  the  long  and  dreary  Winter! 
O  the  cold  and  cruel  Winter! 
Ever  thicker,  thicker,  thicker 
Froze  the  ice  on  lake  and  river; 
Ever  deeper,  deeper,  decider 
Fell  the  snow  o'er  all  the  landscape, 
Fell  the  covering  snow,  and  drifted 
Through  the  forest,  round  the  village. 

LuMQPELLOW. 

Examples  of  Movement. 

▼KRT  SLOW. 

Farewell,  u   long  farew»']T   ♦'»  m11  my  irroatness. 


198  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

SLOW. 

Alone,  alone,  all,  all  alone. 

MODERATE. 

There  was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night. 

FAST. 

Come  and  trip  it  as  ye  go 
On  the  light  fantastic  toe. 

VKRY   FAST. 

Hurry!  hurry  to  the  field! 

Require  each  pupil  to  tnake  out  and  read  in  the  class  a  similar  s 
of  quoted  illustrations. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  199 

CHAPTER  IV. 

PITCH    OF    VOICE. 


I.    Introductory. 


1.  Pitch,  or  key,  denotes  the  highness  or  lowness  of 
the  voice  in  tone.  The  range  of  the  voice  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest  tone  is  called  its  compass. 

2.  The  compass  of  the  voice  among  readers  corre- 
sponds, in  some  degree,  to  the  tenor,  soprano,  contralto, 
and  bass,  among  singers;  but  every  voice  has  its  own 
relatively  low,  middle,  and  high  tones. 

3.  For  everj'  one,  the  middle  pitch  is  that  tone  to 
which  the  voice  inclines  in  conversation,  or  in  iinim- 
passioned  reading. 

4.  The  three  main  divisions  of  pitch  are  the  low,  the 
middle,  and  the  high;  but  these,  for  convenience,  are 
subdivided  into  very  h)w,  low,  middle,  high,  and  very 
high. 

5.  Tlif  geiit  rai  key  in  which  a  selection  should  be  read 
is  determined  by  the  general  sentiment  or  character  of 
the  piece. 

G.  In  order  to  avoid  monotony,  there  should  be  some 
slight  variation  of  pitch  at  the  beginning  of  each  suc- 
cessive paragraph  that  marks  a  new  topic  of  discourse, 
or  a  change  of  idea. 

7.  Low  pit<!h  is  the  tone  expressive  of  serious  thought, 
of  aw^v  «•♦"  »*.'v»-.'iw...  of  adorotion.  of  horror,  niul  of 
despni 

8.  MuUlk  pitch  IS  the  tone  of  convei*sation,  and  of 
unimpassioned  narrative  or  descriptive  reading. 


200  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

9.  Eigh  pitch  is  the  tone  of  gayety,  joy,  and  gladness; 
of  courage  and  exultation;  and  of  shouting  and  calling. 

10.  Of  the  importance  of  drill  exercises  in  pit^^h,  Prof. 
Monroe  says:  '*One  of  the  commonest  faults  in  school 
reading,  and  in  the  delivery  of  many  public  speakers, 
is  a  dull  monotony  of  tone.  This  sameness  is  still  more 
(lisajnceable  to  the  ear  when  the  voice  is  kept  strained 
111)011  a  high  key.  Not  less  unpleasant  is  an  incessant 
repetition  of  the  same  cant  or  sing-song.  Elocutionary 
rules  wiU  do  little  or  nothing  toward  removing  these 
faults.  Faithful  drill  is  needed,  under  the  guidance  of 
good  taste  and  a  correct  musical  ear.  To  this  must  be 
added  an  appreciation  of  the  sentiment  of  the  piece  at 
the  moment  of  utterance. 

11.  "When  the  organs  have  l)een  trained  to  freedom 
and  facility  in  all  degrees  of  the  musical  scale,  the 
pupil  will  find  it  ea«y  to  modulate  his  voice  in  reading. 
Vowels,  words,  and  sentences  should  be  practiced  with 
high,  middle,  and  low  pit<*h.  Having  these  tones  at  his 
command,  the  expressive  reader  will  vary  the  pitch  with 
every  shade  of  thought  or  emotion,  so  that  a  foreigner 
who  did  not  understand  a  word  might  listen  with  pleas- 
ure to  the  play  of  intonation.  Next  to  sweetness  of 
voice,  a  proper  melody  of  delivery  has  the  greatest 
charm  to  the  hearer.'' 

n.    Concert  Drill  on  Pitch. 

1.  Sing  the  scale,  up  and  down:  do,  re,  mi,  fa,  sol, 
la,  a,  do. 

2.  Sing  the  scale  with  the  long  vowel  sounds,  instead 
of  note  names:   a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  a,  e. 

3.  Sound,  not  sing,  the  long  vowels,  a,  e,  i,  6,  u,  on 
the  key  of  do;   of  mi;   of  sol;   of  do. 

4.  Sound  the  long  vowels,  a,  e,  i,  o,  ti:    (1)  With  low 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  «01 

pitch.     (2)   With   middle   pitch.     (3)   With   high   pitch. 
(4)  With  very  high  pitirh. 

5.  Count  from  one  to  twenty:  (1)  In  middle  pitch. 
(2)  With  low  pitch.    (3)  With  high  pitch. 

6.  Repeat,  five  times,  the  word  "all,"  begiiiiiing  with 
very  low  pitch,  and  rising  higher  with  each  successive 
repetition. 

III.    Faults  in  Pitch. 

1.  The  most  common  fault  in  school  reading  is  the 
high  pitch  known  as  the  conventional  "school  tone," 
which  grates  on  the  ear  like  the  filing  of  a  saw.  It 
arises  from  an  effort  to  read  in  a  loud  tone,  and  from 
a  habit  of  reading  without  any  regard  to  thought  or 
feeling.  This  fault  must  be  corre<^ted  by  vocal  drill  on 
H  low  key. 

-.  A  ('ommon  fault,  particularly  of  girls,  is  that  of 
reading  with  feeble  force  and  low  pitch. 

3.  The  failure  to  adapt  the  pitch  to  the  sentiment  or 
emotion  of  what  is  read. 

IV.    Examples  op  the  Middle  Pitch. 

The  middle  pitch  is  the  natural  tone  of  ordinary  con- 
versation. It  is  the  appropriate  key  for  the  reading  of 
unimpassioned  narrative,  descriptive,  and  didactic  com- 
position. 

1.  Give  a  lioy  address  and  accomplishments,  and  you 
give  liini  tlie  mastery  of  palaces  and  fortunes  where  he 
gots 

2.  Wiiidom  is  better  than  riches. 

3.  GcmmI  luoniiutr.  Mr.  Hrowii.  How  do  you  do  this 
morning  ' 

4.   Ft>r  all  a  rhetorician's  ndes 

Teach  nothing  but  to  name  1'-  '     '< 


202  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

5.  Marley  was  dead,  to  begin  with;  there  is  no  doubt 
whatever  about  that.  Old  Marley  was  as  dead  as  a 
door-niiiL 

6.      CONCORD  RIVER. 

We  stand  now  on  the  river^s  brink.  It  may  well  be 
called  the  Concord — the  river  of  peace  and  quietness, — 
for  it  is  certainly  the  most  unexcitable  and  sluggish  stream 
that  ever  loitered  imperceptibly  towards  its  eternity,  th( 
sea.  Positively,  I  had  lived  three  weeks  beside  it,  be- 
fore it  grew  quite  clear  to  my  perception  which  way 
the  current  flowed.  It  never  has  a  vivacious  aspect 
except  when  a  norti'-^^"<^"'-n  It-m./,.  is  vexing  its  sui- 
face,  on  a  sunshinv 

From  the  incurable  iudoleuce  of  its  nature,  the  stream 
is  happily  incapable  of  becoming  the  slave  of  himian 
ingenuity,  as  is  the  fate  of  so  many. a  wild,  free,  moun- 
tain toiTent.  While  all  things  else  are  compelled  to 
subserve  some  useful  purpose,  it  idles  its  sluggish  life 
away  in  lazy  liberty,  without  turning  a  solitary  spindle, 
or  affording  even  water-power  enough  to  grind  the  corn 
that  grows  upon  its  banks.  hawthobke. 

7.      WOUTER  VAN  TWILLER. 

This,  by  the  way,  is  a  casual  remark,  which  I  would 
not,  for  the  universe,  have  it  thought  I  apply  to  Gov- 
ernor Van  Twiller.  It  is  true  he  was  a  man  shut  up 
within  himself,  like  an  oyster,  and  rarely  spoke  except 
in  monosyllables;  but  then  it  was  allowed  he  seldom 
said  a  foolish  thing.  So  invincible  was  his  gravity  that 
he  was  never  known  to  laugh,  or  even  to  smUe,  through 
the  whole  course  of  a  long  and  prosperous  life.  Nay, 
if  a  joke  were  uttered  in  his  presence,  that  set  light- 
minded  hearers  in  a  roar,  it  was  observed  to  throw  him 
into  a  state  of  perplexity.  Sometimes  he  would  deign 
to  inquire  into  the  matter,  and  when,  after  much  ex- 
planation, tlie  joke  was  made  as  plain  as  a  pike-staff, 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  20:! 

he  would  continue  to  smoke  his  pipe  in  silence,  and  at 
length,  knocking  out  the  ashes,  would  exclaim,  "Well, 
I  see  nothing  in  all  that  to  laugh  about."        *   ibvino. 

V.    Examples  op  High  Pitch. 

Joy,  mirth,  and  gayety  incline  the  voice  to  pure  tone 
and  high  pitch.  Calling  to  persons  at  a  distance  in- 
clines the  voice  to  high  pitch  and  pure  tone.  Anger, 
courage,  boldness,  and  exultation  incline  the  voice  to 
high  pitch  and  loud  force. 

1.   Sound  drums  and  tnmipets,  boldly  and  cheerfully. 

2.    Ring  joyous  chords!   ring  out  again 
A  swifter  stiQ  and  a  wilder  strain. 

3.   And  dar'st  thou,  then. 

To  beard  the  lion  in  his  den. 
The  Douglas  in  his  hall? 

4.    But  thou,  O  Hope,  with  eyes  so  fair, 
What  was  thy  delighted  measure! 


Call  me  their  traitor! — Thou  injiirioits  tribune! 
Within  thine  eyes  sat  iiceuty  thdusand  deaths^ 
In  thine  hands  clut<?hed  as  many  millions,  in 
Thy  lying  tongue  bdth  numbers,  I  would  say 
Thou  liest,  unto  thee,  with  a  voice  as  free 
As  I  do  pray  the  gods.  F^^m  conanm*. 

6.     VICTORY. 

They  strike!   hurrah!   the  foe  has  surrendered! 
Shout!   shout!  my  warrior  boy. 
And  wave  your  cap,  and  clap  your  hands  for  joy. 
Cheer  answer  cheer,  and  bear  the  cheer  about 
Hurrah!  hurrah!  for  tlie  fiery  fort  is  ours. 

Virf'-"'    ■■;■■'■ -rf'    "•-*'njl 


2(U  SCHOOL   KijxrrroN. 

7.      CALLING. 

I^m  with  you  once  again! — I  call  to  you 
With  all  my  voice,  1  hold  my  hands  to  yon. 
To  show  they  still  are  free.    I  rksh  to  y-n 

As  though    I   could    >,nhrnr,'    vou. 

7  rr,  Addnu  to  the  Motmtabtt. 

Wheu  over  tlie  liiil  tlie  lai*m-boy  goes, 
Cheerily  calling, 
"Co*  boss!    c(f  boss!  cd!  < 

Farther,  farther,  over  tii     iiu. 
Faintly  calling,  calliiiir  -till. 
**Co'  boss!  cd'  boss!  co' 

SI.     Tin:  WAT(irMAN"s  call. 
Ho  !    watchman,  ho  ! 

Twelve  is  the  clock! 
God  keep  our  town 

From  tiro  and  brand 

And  li(»>tile  hand! 
Twelve  is  the  clo.'k! 

10.      THE  SILVER  BELLS. 

Hear  th(»  sledofcs  ^Y\\h  the  hells — 
.Silver  Ix'lls 
What  a  world  of  merriment  their  melody  foretells ! 
How  they  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle, 

In  the  iey  air  of  night! 
While  the  stars  that  oversprinkle 
All  the  heavens,  seemed  to  twinkle 

With  a  crystalline  deliglit; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time, 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme, 
To  the  tintinnabulation  that  so  musically  wells 
From  the  bells,  l)ells.  bells,  bells, 
BeUs,  bells,  bells— 
From  the  jingling  and  the  tinkling  of  the  bells,   vuv.. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  205 

1  1 .      EXULTATION. 

Joy!  joy  forever!  my  task  is  done; 

The  gates  are  passed,  and  heaven  is  won.     Moom«. 

IL'.      COMMAND  AND    SHOUTING.     . 

Advance  yonr  standards,  draw  your  willing  swords! 
Sound  drums  and  frumpffs,  boldly  and  cheerfully! 
Ood,  and  Stflnf  (jporge!  Richmond  and  victor ij! 

i:;.      THE  CHARCOAL  MAN. 

Though  rudely  blows  the  wintry  blast, 
And  sifting  snows  fall  white  and  fast, 
Mark  Haley  drives  along  the  street, . 
*      Perched  high  upon  his  wagon-seat; 
His  somber  face  the  storm  defies, 
And  thus  from  mom  till  eve  he  cries: — 

''Charco'f   charco'!" 
While  echo  faint  and  far  replies  :- 

''Hark,  0!   hark,  0.'" 
'' Charco' !''—'' Harl\  0.'"— Such  cheer>'  sounds 
Atteml  him  <in  his  daily  nmnds.         T'-""»TT>-r 

HE   LOST   HEIR. 

One  day,  as  I  was  going  by 
That  part  of  Holbom  christened  High, 
I  heard  a  loud  and  sudden  crj- 
That  chilled  my  very  blood; 
•  o  L«ird!  oh,  dear,  my  heart  will  break.  T  shall  iro  stick 

stark  st^iring  wild! 
Has  ever  a  one  seen  anything  about  the  streets  like  a 

cr}-ing,  lost-looking  child? 
The  last  time  as  ever  I  see  him,  poor  tiling,  was  with 

my  own  blessed  motherly  eyes, 
Sitting  as   good  as  -gold   in   the   gutter,  a -playing  at 

making  little  dirt  pies. 
Billy— where  are  you,  Billy t— I'm  as  hoarse  as  a  crow, 
with  screaming  for  ye,  you  young  sorrow! 


206  SCHOOL    LLUCLTION. 

And  sha'n't  have  half  a  voice,  no  more  I  sha'n%  for 

crying  fresh  herrings  to-morrow. 
Billy— where  are  you,  Billy,  I  say?   come  Billy,  come 

home  to  your  best  of  mothers! 
I'm  scared  when  I  think  of  them  cabroleys,  they  drive 

so,  they'd  run  over  their  own  sisters  and  brothers. 
Or  may  be  he 's  stole  by  some  chimbly-sweeping  wretch, 

to  stick  fast  in  narrow  flues  and  what  not, 
And  be  poked  up  behind  with  a  picked  pointed  pole,  when 

the  soot  has  ketched,  and  the  chimbly  's  red  hot. 
Oh,  I'd  give  the  whole  wide  world,  if  the  world  was 

mine,  to  clap  my  two  longin'  eyes  on  his  facej 
For  he 's  my  darlin'  of  dai-lin's,  and  if  he  do  n't  soon  <;ome 

back,  you'll  see  me  drop  stone-dead  on  the  place. 
I  only  wish  I'd  got   liiiii   safe  in  these  two  motherly 

arms,  and  wouldn't  I  hug  him  and  kiss  him! 
Lawk!   I  never  knew  what  a  precious  he  was — ^but  a 

child  don't  not  feel  like  a  child  till  you  miss  him. 
Why,  there  he  is !     Punch  and  Judy  hunting,  the  young 

wretch;   it's  that  Billy  as  sartin  as  sin! 
But  let  me  get  him  home,  with  a  good  grip  of  his  hair, 

and  I'm  blest  if  he  shall  have  a  whole  bone  in  his 

skin!"  Hoop. 

15.      EXTRACTS  FROM    HOOD'S   "TALE  OP  A  TRUMPET." 

Of  all  old  women  hard  of  hearing, 

The  deafest,  sure,  was  Dame  Eleanor  Spearing! 

On  her  head,  it  is  true. 

Two  flaps  there  grew. 
That  ser^'ed  for  a  pair  of  gold  rings  to  go  through; 
But  for  any  pui'pose  of  ears  in  a  parley, 
They  heai'd  no  more  than  ears  of  barley. 

However,  in  the  peddler  came, 

And  the  moment  he  met  the  eyes  of  the  dame, 

Popped  a  trumpet  into  her  ear: — 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  207 

"There,  ma'am!   trp  it! 

You  needn't  bihj  it — 
The  last  new  patent — and  nothing  comes  nigh  it, 
For  affording  the  deaf,  at  little  expense, 
The  sense  of  hearing,  and  hearing  of  sense! 
A  real  bl6ssing — and  no  mistake. 
Invented  for  poor  humaniitjs  sdke; 
\  wouldn't  tell  a  Ue,  I  would nH, 

But  my  trumpets  have  heard  what  Solomon^ s  couldn't; 
Only  a  guinea — and  can't  take  Zm." 
[^^ThaVs  very  d4ar,^^  says  Dame  Eleanor  IS.) 

"There  was  Mrs.  F., 

So  very  deaf, 
That  she  might  have  worn  a  percussion-c^j!), 
And  been  knocked  on  the  head  without  hearing  it  sndp. 
won,  I  sold  her  a  h6rn,  and  the  very  n^xt  ddy 
She  heard  from  her  husband  at  Botany  Bdyl 
<  "ome— speak  your  mind — it's  'J!^^  or  Yes.'" 
{''I\'e  half  a  mmd,^^  said  Dame  Eleanor  S.) 

"IV^  it — buy  it! 

Buy  it — trij  it! 
The  last  new  patent,  and  nothing  comes  lugh  ity 
In  short,  the  peddl&r  so  beset  her — 
Lord  BAcon  couldn't  have  gammoned  her  better — 
With  flatteries  plimip  and  indirect, 
And  plied  his  tongue  with  such  effect — 
A  tongue  that  could  almost  have  buttered  a  crumpet — 
The  deitf  old  woman  bought  the  trumpet. 

lii  i.NVl.l;.-Ai:uN   UXDEIl   DIFFICULTIES. 

lE4ieh  sttpjtosis  the  other  to  be  very  de^f,  the  pitch  at  times  running 
into  screaming.'] 

Jones.    (Speaking  shrill  and  loud.)    Miss,  will  y<ui  ac- 
cept tliese  flowers  t    I  plucked  them  fi-om  their  dumber 
•n  the  hilL 
Pru.    {In  an  equally  high  vaice.)    Kealh  1  — 


208  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Jones.  (Aside.)  She  hesitates.  It  must  be  that  she 
does  not  hear  me.  [Increasituj  his  tone.)  Miss,  will  you 
accept  these  flowers — flowers?  I  })lucked  them  sleep- 
ing on  the  hill — hill. 

Pni.  {Also  increasing  her  tone.)  Certainly,  Mr.  Jones. 
They  are  beautiful — beau-u-tiful. 

Jones.  (Aside.)  How  she  screams  in  my  ear.  ^^A/i^nd.) 
Yes,  I  plucked  them  from  their  sluml)er — slusiber,  on 
the  hill — HHX, 

Pru.  (Aside.)  Poor  man,  what  an  effort  it  seems  for 
him  to  speak.  (Aloud.)  I  perceive  you  are  poetical. 
Are  you  fond  of  poetr}^?  (Aside).  He  hesitates.  I 
must  speak  loii<l..v  iTn  "  <rrinni\  pootrv — poetry — 
POETRY ! 

Jones.  (Asidt.)  Hie^s  me,  the  woman  would  wake  the 
dead!     (Aloud.)    Yes,  Miss,  I  ad-o-r-e  it. 

Snob.  Glorious!  glorious!  I  wonder  how  loud  they 
ran  scream.     Oh,  vengeance,  thou  art  sweet! 

Pru.    Can  you  repeat  some  poetr}' — poetry! 

Jones.     I  only  know  one  poem.     It  is  this — 

You'd  scarce  expect  one  of  my  age — Age, 
To  speak  in  publi<'  on  tIip  sfape — Stage. 

Pru.     Bravo— bravo ! 

Jones.    Thank  you!     Thank 


Prti.    Mercy  on  us!     Do  you  think  I^m  deaf,  sir? 

Jones.  And  do  you  fancy  me  deaf.  Miss?  (NaUiraJ 
tone.) 

Pru.     Are  you  not,  sir?     You  surprise  me! 

Jmies.  No,  Miss.  I  was  led  to  believe  that  you  were 
deaf.     Snobbleton  told  me  so. 

Pru.  Snobbleton!  Why,  he  told  me  that  you  were 
deaf. 

Jones.     Confound   the   fellow!    he   has   been   making 

game    of    us.  BeadU't  Dime  Speaier. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  209 

\  i.     Examples  of  Low  Pitch. 

Loir  pilch  is  the  characteristic  key  of  the  voice  when 
the  mind  is  under  the  influence  of  serious,  ^rave,  and 
impressive  thoughts;  and  reri/  low  ])itch  is  the  api)r()- 
priate  key  for  the  expression  of  n^verence,  adoration, 
horror,  and  despair. 

1.       FROM   THK    "RIME  OF  THE  ANCIENT  MARINER." 

An  orphan's  cui*se  would  drag  to  hell 

A  spirit  from  on  high; 
But  oh!   more  horrible  than  that 

Is  the  curse  in  a  dead  man's  eye! 
Seven  days,  seven  nights  I  s;nv  that  curse. 

And  yet  I  could  not  die. 

12.      FROM  THE    **  RAVEN." 

Deep  into  that  darkness  peering,  long  I   stood   there, 

wondering,  fearing, 
l)ou})ting,   dreaming   dreams   no   mortal   ever  dared   to 

dream  before; 
lint    the   silence  whs    mibrokoTi.  nn(\   tlir    stilliioss    ^rsivo 

no  token. 
And   the   only  word    there    spoken    wjis    the    whispered 

word  "Leuore!" 
This   I   whispered,   and   an.  echo   murmured    back   the 

word  "Tionore!" 

Merely  this,  and  nothing  more. 

.       -      -  DBO. 

Let  us  knM; 

Gk>d'8  own  voi(;e  is  in  that  pt'^al, 
And  this  spot  is  hoJy  groun<l 

Lord,  forgive  us!     What  jh 

That  our  eyes  this  gl6ry  sec, 
That  our  ears  have  heard  the  stSund!     w,,,    ,, 

14 


210  SCIIooT.    F.LOcrTTOX. 

4.      FROM   THE   PSALMS. 

He  bowed  the  heavens,  also,  and  came   down;    aii<i 
darkness  was  under  his  feet;  and  he  rode  upon  a  ehenil 
and  did  fly;   and   he  was   seen   upon   the  wings  of   th( 
wind;  and  he  made  darkness  pav-ihons  round  about  him. 
dark  waters,  and  thick  clouds  of  the  skies. 

5.     THE  CHAXDOS  PICTURE. 

The  bell  far  off  beats  midnight;  in  the  dark 

The  sounds  have  lost  their  way,  and  wander  slowly 
Through  the  dead  air;   beside  me  things  cry,  "Hark! 
And  whisper  words  unholy.  euwaui.  i»oii».  k. 

6.      THE  IRON  BELLS. 

Hear  the  tolling  of  the  bells — 
Iron  bells! 
What  a  world  of  solemn  thought  their  monody  compel- 
In  the  silence  of  the  night. 
How  we  shiver  with  affright 
At  the  melancholy  menace  of  their  tone! 
For  ever}'  sound  that  floats 
From  the  ru>st  within  their  throats 

Is  a  groan. 
And  the  people — ah,  the  people — 
They  that  dwell  up  in  the  steeple, 

All  alone! 
And  who  tolling,  tolling,  tolling. 

In  that  muffled  monotone, 
Feel  a  glory  in  so  rolling 

On  the  human  heart  a  stone; 
They  are  neither  man  nor  woman — 
They  ai-e  neither  brute  nor  human — 

They  are  ghouls; 
And  their  king  it  is  who  tolls — 
And  he  rolls,  roUs,  roUs,  roUs, 
A  paean  from  the  bells! 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  211 

And  his  merry  bosom  swells 
With  the  pflpan  of  the  l)ells! 
And  he  dances  and  he  yells; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time, 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhjTne, 
To  the  ptean  of  the  bells — 

Of  the  bells! 
Keeping  time,  time,  time. 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme, 
To  the  throbbing  of  the  beUs — 

Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells— 
To  the  sobbing  of  the  beUs; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time. 

As  he  knells,  knells,  knells. 
In  a  happy  Runic  rhyme. 
To  the  rolling  of  the  bells— 

Of  the  bells,  bells,  l)ells. 
To  the  tolling  of  the  bells— 
Of  the  l)ells,  beUs,  bells,  bells, 
Bells,  bells,  bells— 
To  the  moaning  and  the  groaning  of  the  beUs! 


\  II.    Examples  op  Very  Low  Pitch. 

1.  Concerning  the  application  of  very  low  pitch  in 
reading  and  speaking,  Prof.  Russell  remarks :  "  This  low- 
est fonn  of  pitch  is  one  of  the  most  impressive  means 
of  powerful  natural  effect,  in  the  utterance  of  all  deep 
and  impressive  emotions.  The  pervading  and  absorbing 
effect  of  awej  amazement^  horror,  or  any  similar  feeling, 
<an  never  be  produced  without  low  pit^-h  and  deep  suc- 
. fssive  notes;  and  the  deptli  and  reality  of  such  emotions 
are  always  in  proportion  to  the  depth  of  voice  with  whi(^h 
they  are  uttered.  Tlie  grandest  descriptions  in  the  *  Par- 
adise Lost,'  and  the  profoundest  meditations  in  the 
Night  Thought*,'  become  trivial  in  their  effect  on  the 


212  RCTiooL  ELorrTiox. 

eai*,  when  read  with  the  ineffectual  expression  insepar.i 
ble  from  the  pitch  of  ordinary  conversation  or  discourse. 

2.  "  The  vocal  deficiency  which'  limits  the  range  of 
expression  to  the  middle  and  higher  notes  of  the  scale 
is  not,  by  any  means,  the  unavoidable  and  necessary 
fault  of  organization,  as  it  is  so  generally  supposed  to 
be.  Habit  is  in  this,  as  in  so  many  other  tilings,  the 
cause  of  defect.  There  is  truth,  no  doubt,  in  the  remark 
80  often  made  in  defense  of  a  high  and  feeble  voice, 
that  it  is  natural  to  the  individual,  or  that  it  is  difficult 
for  some  readers  to  attain  to  depth  of  voice  without 
incurring  a  false  and  forced  style  of  utterance.  But  in 
most  cases  it  is  ha))it,  not  organization,  that  has  made 
certain  notes  natui*al  or  unnatural — in  other  words, 
familiar  to  the  ear  or  the  reverse. 

3.  "The  neglect  of  the  lower  notes  of  the  scale,  and, 
consequently,  of  the  organic  action  by  which  they  are 
produced,  may  render  a  deep-toned  utterance  less  easy 
than  it  would  otherwise  be.  But  most  teachers  of  elo- 
cution are,  from  day  to  day,  witnesses  to  the  fact  that 
students,  from  the  neglect  of  muscular  action,  and  from 
all  the  other  enfeebling  causes  involved  in  sedentary 
habits  and  intellectiial  application,  sometimes  commence 
a  course  of  practice  with  a  high-pitched,  thin,  and  fem- 
inine voice,  which  seems  at  first  incapable  of  expressing 
a  grave  or  manly  sentiment,  and,  in  some  instances, 
appears  to  forbid  the  individual  from  ever  attempting 
the  utterance  of  a  solemn  thought,  lest  his  treble  tone 
should  make  the  effect  ridiculous;  but  that  a  few  weeks' 
practice  of  vocal  exercise  on  bass  notes  and  deep  emo- 
tions, as  embodied  in  rightly  selected  exercises,  often 
enables  such  readers  to  acquire  a  round  and  deep-toned 
utterance,  adequate  to  the  fullest  effects  of  impressive 
eloquence. 

4.  "The  exercise  of  singing  bass,  if  cultivated  as  an 
habitual  practice,  has  a  great  effect  in  imparting  com- 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  -1:; 

iimtid  of  deep-toned  expression  in  reading  and  speaking. 
Reading  and  reciting  passages  from  Milton  and  from 
Young,  and  particularly  from  the  Book  of  Psalms,  or 
from  hymns  of  a  deeply  solemn  character,  are  exercises 
of  great  value  for  securing  the  command  of  the  lower 
notes  of  the  voice." 

5.  In  the  following  exercises  the  movement  is  very 
slow,  the  i)auses  ai*e  verv-  l<niir.  and  the  prevailing  inflec- 
tion the  grave  monotone. 

1.      THE  GRAVE. 

How  frightful  the  f/rdve!  how  deserted  and  drear! 
With  the  howls  of  the  stonn-wiud,  the  creaks  of  the  bier. 
And  the  white  bones  all  clattering  together! 

L'.       1  !  I  H  BKLL  OP  THE  ATLANTIC. 

Toll,  toll,  toll,  thou  bell  by  billows  swung; 

Aim!    iiTirht   and   day,   thy  warning  words  repeat    witli 

oiimful  tongue; 
1  uil  lor  the  queenly  boat,  wrecked  on  yon  rocky  shore ! 
Sea- weed  is  in  her  palace  walls;  she  rides  the  surge  no 

m<^^e.  Mb«.  SioouaNsr. 

;{.       THE  OHOST  IN   HAMLI  T 

1  cniild  a  tale  unfold,  whose  lightest   wmd 

Would  haiTow  uj)  thy  soul,  freeze  thy  yoiing  bloml, 

Make  thy  two  eyes  like  stars  start  from  their  spheres. 

Thy  knotted  and  combined  locks  to  part. 

And  each  particular  hair  to  stand  on  end. 

Like  qnills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine.  suakbspbabk. 

4.       DARKNESS. 

The  world  was  v<Md: 
The  populous  |  and  the  powerful  |  was  a  lump, 
Seasonless,  lierbless,  treeless,  manless,  lifeless; 
A  lrini]»  of  dr*!ith.  i\  chaos  of  hard  eh\y. 
Th.  1(1  ocean,  all  |  stood  |  still, 


214  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

And  nothing  |  stirred  |  within  their  silent  depths. 

Ships,  sailorless,  lay  rotting  on  the  sea, 

And  their  masts  j  fell  down  |  piecemeal;  as  they  dropped  | 

They  slept  on  the  abyss,  without  a  stirge — 

The  waves  |  were  d^ad;  the  tides  |  were  in  their  gr^ve: 

The  moon,  their  mistress,  had  expired  before; 

The  winds  |  were  withered  |  in  the  stagnant  air. 

And  the  clouds  |  perished:   Darkness  |  had  no  need  | 

Of  aid  I  from  them — she  |  was  the  universe.  btron. 

VIII.    Recapitulation  op  Pitch. 

1.  Very  low  is  the  pitch  of  awe,  of  reverence,  of  solem- 
nity,  of  melancholy,  horror,  and  despair. 

2.  Low  is  the  pitch  of  serious,  gyo>u>  y/.Z/^^^  <i,h1  hn- 
pre.ssive  thouyhts  and  feelings. 

3.  Middle  is  the  pitch  of  ordinary  conversation,  and 
of  unimpassioned  fMrrative,  descriptive,  or  didactic  com- 
position, 

4.  High  pitch  is  the  pitch  of  courage,  boldness,  exulta- 
tion,  wonder,  aiid  anger,  and  of  shouting  or  calling. 

5.  Very  high  is  the  pitch  of  rapturous  emotion,  of  un- 
.controllable  passion,  of  terror,  and  pain. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  215 


CHAPTER  V. 

QUALITY    OF    VOICE. 


Introductory. 

1.  Quality  of  voice  relates  to  tlie  kind  of  toue  used 
in  reading  or  speaking  in  order  to  express  varied 
thoughts  and  emotions. 

2.  The  ever-varying  intonations  of  a  rich  and  culti- 
vated voice  constitute  one  of  the  greatest  charms  of  a 
.good  rejuler  or  speaker. 

3.  "  In  poetical  and  impassioned  language,"  says  Prof. 
Russell,  "tones  are  often  the  most  prominent  and  the 
most  important  qualities  of  voice;  and  to  give  these 
with  propriety,  force,  and  vividness,  is  the  chief  excel- 
lence of  good  i*eading  or  recitation. 

4.  "The  language  of  prose,  being  generally  less 
imaginative  and  exciting,  does  not  require  the  extent 
and  power  of  tone  used  in  poetry.  But  as  true  feeling 
is,  in  Iwth  cases,  the  same  in  kind,  though  not  in  degree, 
and  as  no  sentiment  can  be  uttered  naturally  without 
the  tone  of  its  appropriate  emotion,  and  no  thouglit, 
indeed,  can  arise  in  the  mind  \vitliout  a  degree  of  emo- 
tion, a  great  importance  is  attached,  even  in  the  reml- 
ing  or  speaking  of  prose  composition,  to  those  qualities 
of  voice  comprehended  under  the  name  of  tones. 

5.  "Without  these,  utterance  would  degenenite  into 
A  merely  meclianical  process  of  articulation.  It  is  tliese 
that  give  impulse  and  vitality'  to  thought,  «'"1  whi*h 
constitute  the  chief  instruments  of  eloquence. 


216  school  elocution. 

Kinds  of  Tone. 

The  (lifftTcMit  (lualities  of  tone  may  be  classed  as 
follows  : 

1.  Pure  tone.  4.   The  Guttm-al. 

2.  The  Orotund.  5.   The  Falsetto. 

3.  The  Aspiratt^l.  6.   The  Semitone. 

Of  these  divisions,  the  pure  tone  and  the  orotund  are 
the  most  impoi'ttint,  l)eeause  they  are  most  used  in 
reading. 

P'aults  in  Quality. 

1.  Perhaps  the  most  common  fault  in  school  reading 
consists  in  using  one  uniform  toiH'  for  all  kinds  of 
selections. 

2.  This  hard,  thin,  high,  grating  quality  is  appropri- 
ately termed  the  *^  school  tone." 

3.  The  faulty  habits  of  pupils  in  this  respect  are  best 
corrected  by  requiring  pupils  to  repeat  in  concert,  after 
the  teacher,  short  extracts  which  include  great  variations 
of  quality.  Many  timid  pupils  are,  at  first,  frightened 
at  the  sound  of  their  own  voices  in  any  other  tone  than 
the  conventional  school  tone. 

4.  Another  fault  is  the  tendency  to  the  nasal  tone. 
This  high,  thin,  sharp,  disagreeable  tone  is  produced  by 
forcing  the  breath  into  the  nose  before  it  leaves  the 
mouth,  and  this  fault  in  reading  is  the  result  of  not 
opening  the  mouth  sufficiently  in  reading.  It  may  be 
broken  up  by  persistent  drill  on  the  open  vowel  sounds, 
and  by  exentises  that  keep  the  voice  down  to  a  low  pitch. 

I.    Pure  Tone. 

1.  Pure  tone,  or  head  tone,  is  a  clear,  smooth  sound, 
so  formed  as  to  have  a  slight  resonance  in  the  head  or 
through  the  nasal  passages.  A  good  illustration  of  this 
quality  is  afforde<1  Lv  trivino-  fl^^  sound  of  oo  as  in  moon. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  Jl  < 

prolonged  for  ten  seconds,  in  a  thin,  clear,  gentle  vocal 
sound,  on  a  moderately  high  pitch. 

2.  Pure  tone  is  used  in  all  quiet,  gentle,  subdued 
forms  of  utterance;  in  the  expression  of  pathos  and 
tenderness;  in  ordinary  conversation;  in  unimpassioned 
reading;  and  in  the  prolonged  tones  of  shouting  or 
calling,  when  the  voice,  raised  to  a  high  pitch,  flows  in 
a  thin,  clear,  penetrating  volume. 

3.  "The  production  of  pure  and  full  tone,"  says  Prof. 
William  Russell,  "is  the  common  ground  on  which  elo- 
cution and  vocal  music  unite,  in  elementary  discipline. 
Both  arts  demand  attention  to  appropriate  healthful 
attitude,  and  to  free,  expansive,  energetic  action  in  the 
organs. 

4.  "Both  require  erect  posture,  free  opening  of  the 
chest,  full  and  regular  breathing,  power  of  producing 
and  sustaining  any  degree  of  volume  of  voice,  and,  along 
with  these,  the  habit  of  vivid,  distinct  articulation. 

5.  "Both  equally  forbid  that  imperfect  and  laborious 
breathing  which  mars  the  voice,  exhausts  the  organs, 
and  prcKluces  disease.  Both  tend  to  secure  that  healthy 
vigor  of  organ  which  makes  vocal  exercise,  at  once,  a 
source  of  pleasure  and  a  source  of  health." 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  Straight  mine  eye  hath  caught  new  pleasures, 
While  the  landscape  round  it  measures. 

2.  O  that  this  lovely  vale  wei*e  mine! 

:j.   O  then  I  see  Queen  Mab  hath  been  with  you! 

4.   Rejoice,  ye  men  of  Anglers;  ring  your  bells; 
Open  your  gates  to  give  the  victors  way. 

•>•   'J^^v!   joy  forever!   my  task  is  done! 

6.  Ring,  joyous  chords!   ring  out  again! 

7.  Hear  the  sledges  with  the  bells — silver  bells! 


218  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

8.  Marley  was  dead,  to  bepii  witli.     There  is  no  doubt 
whatever  about  that. 

9.  Studies  serve  for  delight,  for  ornament,  and  for 
ability. 

10.  Has  there  any  old  fellow  got  mixed  with  the  hoysf 

11.  Listen,  my  children,  and  you  shall  hear 
Of  the  midnight  ride  of  Paul  Revere. 

12.      BUQLE  SONG. 

O  hark,  0  hear!  how  thin  and  clear, 
And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going; 
O  sweet  and  far,  from  cliff  and  scar. 
The  horns  ol    lilt  land  faintly  blowing! 
Blow;   let  us  hear  the  purple  glens  replying; 
Blow,  bugle;   answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

Tennybon. 
13.      THE   BELLS. 

Hear  the  sledges  with  the  bells — 
Silver  bells! 
What  a  world  of  merriment  their  melody  foretells! 
How  they  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle. 

In  the  icy  air  of  night! 
While  the  stars  that  oversprinkle 
All  the  heavens  seem  to  twinkle 

With  a  crystalline  delight; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time, 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme, 
To  the  tintinnabulation  that  so  musically  wells 
From  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells, 
BeUs,  bells,  bells; 
From  the  jingling  and  the  tinkling  of  the  beUs.    pob. 

14.      SONG    ON   MAY   MORNING. 

Now  the  bright  morning  Star,  day's  harbinger, 
Comes  dancing  from  the  East,  and  leads  with  her 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  219 

The  flowery  May,  who  from  her  green  lap  throws 
Tlie  yellow  cowslip  and  the  pale  primrose. 
Hail,  bounteous  May,  that  dost  inspire 
Mirth,  and  youth,  and  warm  desire: 
Woods  and  groves  are  of  thy  dressing, 
Hill  and  dale  doth  boast  thy  blessing. 
Thus  we  salute  thee  with  our  early  song, 
And  w«'lcoTn(»  thee,  and  wish  thee  long.         milton. 

15.      DRIFTING. 

The  day  so  mild  is  Heaven's  own  child. 
With  Earth  and  Ocean  reconciled; 
The  airs  I  feel  around  me  steal 
Are  murmuring  to  the  murmuriifg  keel. 

Over  the  mil  my  hand  I  trail 

Within  the  shadow  of  the  sail; 

A  joy  intense — the  cooling  sense — 

Glides  down  my  drowsy  indolence.  Bnu. 

16.  TO   A   SKYLARK. 

Hail  to  thee,  blithe  spirit — 
Bird  thou  never  wert — 
That  from  heaven,  or  near  it, 
Pourest  thy  full  heart 
In  profuse  sti'ains  of  unpremeditated  art. 

Higher  still  and  higher. 
From  the  earth  thou  springest; 
Like  a  cloud  of  fire 
The  blue  deep  thou  wingest. 
And  singing  still  dost  soar,  and  soaring  ever  singest. 

Shbllbt. 

17.  PA88INO  AWAY. 

Was  it  the  chime  of  a  tiny  Ml 
That  came  so  sweet  to  my  dreaming  ^ar. 

Like  the  silvery  tones  of  a  fairy's  sh^ll^ 
That  he  winds,  on  the  beach,  so  mellow  and  cl^ar, 


220  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

When  the  winds  and  the  waves  lie  together  asUep, 
And  the  Moon  and  the  Fairy  are  watching  the  (Uep. 
She  dispensing  her  silvery  lights 
And  he  his  notes  as  silvery  quitej 
While  the  boatman  listens  and  ships  his  6a t\ 
To  catch  the  music  .that  comes  from  the  sh(he t 
Hdrk!  the  notes  on  my  ear  that  phit/j 
Are  set  to  wdrds:  as  they  fl6at,  they  sdt/y 

^^PuHsing  away!  passing  awdy!'^         piebwnt. 

18.      KVK  OP  ELECTION. 

From  gold  to  gray,  oiir  mild,  sweet  day 
Of  Indian  summer  fades  too  soon; 

But  tenderly,  above  the  sea, 
Hangs,  white  and  calm,  the  hunter's  moon. 

In  its  pale  fire  the  village  spire 
Shows  like  the  zodiac's  spectral  lance  j 

The  painted  walls,  whereon  it  falls. 
Transfigured  stand  in  marble  trance!       \vhittieu. 

Concert  Drill  ox  Pure  Tone. 

1.  Repeat,  four  times,  the  long  vowels,  a,  e,  i,  6,  ii: 

(1)  With  moderate  force,  pure  tone,  and  rising  inflection. 

(2)  With  soft  or  gentle  force.     (3)  With  high  pitch,  pure 
tone,  and  sustained  force. 

2.  Count  from  one  to  fifty:   (1)  With  quiet  conversa- 
tional tone  and  rising  inflection.     (2)  Falling  inflection. 

(3)  Circumflex  inflection.     (4)  The  monotone. 

3.  Give  the  sound  of  long  o,  prolonged  for  ten  sec- 
onds;   of  a;   of  e. 

4.  In  high  pitch,  and  thin,  clear,  pure  tone,  call  as  to 
persons  at  a  distance:    ho!   ho!   ho! 

II.    The  Orotund. 
1.    The  orotund  is  a  round,  deep,  full,  clear,  resonant 


-(•Iln.,1.         '   ...    '    riMX.  221 

•  ht'st  toue  of  voice.  It  has  llie  llow  and  fullness  of  an 
»rgan-peal.  It  is  the  tone  of  emotion,  excitement,  and 
passion. 

2.  The  orotufid  has  the  smoothness  of  pure  tone,  but 
♦•ombines  it  with  a  much  heavier  volume  of  sound. 
The  swelling  tones  of  the  orotund  are  the  appropriate 
means  of  expressing  reverence,  awe,  sublimity,  grandeur, 
and  strong  feeling  or  passion.  It  prevails  in  oratorical 
declamation  and  in  the  reading  of  lyric  or  dramatic 
poetry. 

3.  The  prevailing  stress  of  the  orotund  is  the  median, 
changing,  however,  under  excitement,  into  the  radical. 

4.  In  the  orotund  utterance,  the  breathing  must  be 
full  and  deep,  to  insure  a  good  supply  of  breath;  the 
mouth  must  be  well  opened;  all  the  vocal  organs  must 
be  called  into  full  play;  and  then,  in  harmony  with 
strong  emotions,  the  voice  swells  out  like  the  blast  of 
.:  bugle  or  the  resonant  swell  of  an  organ. 

5.  The  three  degrees  of  the  orotund  may  be  distin- 
guished as  the  eflfnsiv(\  tho  (expulsive,  and  the  explosive. 

Orotund  Drill. 

1.  Repeat,  four  times,  in  monotone,  the  long  vocals, 
a,  e,  i,  o,  u. 

2.  Inhale  to  the  utmost  capacity  of  the  lungs  and 
then  give,  with  strong  swell  and  round  tone,  the  sound 
of  long  0,  prolonged  as  long  as  the  breath  will  allow. 

').   Repeat  four  times  the  following  vocals:  e,  %  a,  a,  6,  o. 

4.    Lo!  the  mighty  sun  looks  forth! 
Ann!   tliou  leader  of  the  north. 

5.    Awake !   Arise !   or  be  forever  fallen ! 
G.  Air,  earth,  and  sea,  resound  his  praise  abroad. 
7.    Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  0(^ean,  roll, 
TfMi  tliousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain. 


222  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

8.  Farewell,  a  long  farewell  to  all  my  greatness. 

9.  Hail !   holy  light,  offspring  of  Heaven  first-born ! 

10.  Liberty !   freedom  !     T>Tauuy  is  dead ! 

11.  It  thunders!   sons  of  dust,  in  reverence  bow! 

12.  Hear  the  mellow  wedding  bells — golden  bells. 

13.  Hear  the  loud  alarum  bells — hrmen  bells. 

14.  O  thou  Eternal  One!   whose  presence  bright 
All  space  doth  occupy,  all  motion  guide, 
Unchanged  through  time's  all-devastating  flight; 
Thou  only  God!    There  is  no  God  beside! 

Examples  op  Epfusive  Orotund. 

1.      THE  ARSKNAL. 

This  is  the  Arsenal.    From  floor  to  ceiling, 
Like  a  huge  drgan^  rise  the  burnished  ^rms; 

But  from  their  silent  pipes  no  anthem  pealing. 
Startles  the  villages  |  with  strange  alarms. 

Ah!  what  a  sound  will  rise — how  wild  and  dreary — 
When  the  death-angel  touches  those  swift  Mys! 

What  loud  lament  |  and  dismal  Miserere 
Will  mingle  |  with  their  awful  symphonies  ! 

I  h6ar  even  now  \  the  infinite  fierce  chorus, 
The  cries  of  (igony,  the  endless  groan, 

Which,  through  the  ages  \  that  have  gone  before  us, 
In  long  reverherdtions  \  reach  our  dwn.        lonofellow. 

2.      THE  OCEAN. 

The  armaments  \  which  thunderstrike  the  walls  | 
Of  rock-built  cities,  bidding  nations  quake, 

And  monarchs  \  tremble  in  their  capitals; 
The  oak  leviathans,  whose  huge  ribs  make  | 
Their  clay  creator  |  the  vain  title  take  | 


si:iU)oL    KLUCUTIOX.  223 

Of  lord  of  thee,  and  arbiter  of  irdr — 

These  \  are  thy  tot/s,  and,  as  the  snowy  fl(i1ce, 
They  melt  into  thy  yeast  of  wkves,  wliieh  mar  | 
Alike  I  the  Armnthrs-  |>i'iMe.  or  s])(>ils  of   Tnifalgtir. 

Bybox. 

3.      HYMX   TO   MOXT    BLANC 

Ye  Ue-taMsl  ye  that  from  tlie  mountain's  brow  | 
Adown  enormous  rd vines  slope  amain — 
Torrents,  methinks,  that  heard  a  mip:hty  voice, 
And  stopped  at  6nee  amid  their  maddest  plunge! 
Motionless  toiTents !   s)Jenf  e{\taraets! 
Who  made  you  glorious  as  the  gates  of.  Ma  cen  \ 
Beneath  the  keen  full  moon!    Who  bade  the  siui  | 
Clothe  you  with  n\inbows?    Who,  with  living  flowers 
Of  loveliest  blue,  spread  garlands  at  your  feet? — 
God!  let  the  torrents  like  a  shout  of  nations  \ 
Answer!   and  let  the  ke-plains  echo:    God! 
Gdd!  sing,  ye  meadow-streams,  ^Wth  gladsome  v6ice! 
Ye  pi/if'-groves,  with  your  soft  and  soul -like  sounds! 
And  tMy  too  have  a  voicCj  yon  piles  of  sn6w, 
And  in  their  perilous  fall  |  shall  thunder:    God! 

Couch  I  DOR. 
4.      THE  CHAMBERED  NACTHiUS. 

Build  thee  more  stdtehj  mansions,  O  my  soid. 

As  the  swift  seasons  roll! 

L^ave  thy  low- vaulted  pdst! 
Ijt^t  each  new  thnpJe,  nobler  than  the  l^t. 
Shut  thee  from  heaven  with  a  dome  more  v6st, 

Till  thou  at  length  art  frhj 
Leaving  thine  outgrown  shSl  by  life's  unresting  sea! 

H0UIK8. 

5.      FROM  THE  PaA.LM8. 

Praise  ye  the  Ldrd.  Praise  ye  the  Lord  from  the 
hrarem;  praise  him  in  the  ItNghts.  Praise  ye  him,  all 
his  (ingeJs:  praise  ye  him.  all  his  hosts.  Praise  ye  him, 
sun  iiTul  moon:  ])niis»»  Inm.  all  ye  stdrs  of  Dght.    Praise 


224  S'CHOOL    ELOCUTIOX. 

him,  ye  lieavens  of  heavens j  and  \v  tvuit^r.s  ihal  hv  nbor> 
the  heavens.  Let  them  praise  the  name  of  the  Lord: 
for  he  commanded,  and  they  were  created.  He  hatli 
also  estabUshed  them  for  h'er  and  ever:  he  hath  made  a 
decree  wliich  shall  not  pass.  Praise  the  Lord  from  the 
earth,  ye  dragons j  and  all  deeps:  /tVf,  and  Mil;  sn6n\ 
and  r(ipors;  stormy  mnd  fulfilling  his  W()rd :  mountains, 
and  all  h)Us;  fruitful  trhSy  and  all  cedars:  beasts j  and 
all  cdttle;  creeping  things,  and  flying  fowl:  kings  of  the 
eiirth,  and  all  phple:  princesy  and  all  jiidges  of  the 
earth:  botli  young  n^n  and  mdidens;  old  ndn  and 
chUdren.  Let  them  praise  the  name  of  the  Lord:  for  his 
name  alone  is  excellent;  Ms  glory  is  above  the  eartli 
and  heaven. 

6.      EVE  OP  ELECTION. 

Our  hearts  grow  cold,  we  lightly  hold 
A  riglit  which  brave  men  died  to  gain; 

The  stake,  the  cord,  the  ax,  the  sword, 
Grim  nurses  at  its  birth  of  pain. 

The  shadow  rend,  and  o'er  us  bend, 
O  martyrs,  with  your  crowns  and  palms! 

Breathe  through  these  throngs,  your  battle-songs, 
Your  scaffold  prayers  and  dungeon  psalms! 

Whittier. 

Examples  op  Expulsive  Orotund. 

These   examples  are   to   be   rendered  with  a  stronger 
swell  than  those  under  the  head  of  effusive  orotund. 

1.      LAFS  DEO. 

It  is  done! 
Clang  of  hell  and  roar  of  gun 

Send  the  tidings  up  and  down. 
How  the  belfries  rock  and  reelj 
How  the  great  giinSj  peal  on  pMj 

Fling  the  joy  from  town  to  town!  w.mT.Ki:. 


-'    MOOL    ELOCi    ri()\.  225 

2.  CHRISTMA.-, 

Ring  dut,  ye  crystal  spheres! 
()nc(»  bless  our  human  ears, 

If  ye  have  power  to  toiicli  '>iir  .vv'*^s/.s  so; 
And  let  your  silver  chime 
Move  in  melodious  time, 

And  let  the  bass  of  heaven^s  deep  drgan  blow; 

And  with  your  ninefold  harmony 

Mnl'r  lip  full  consort  to  the  anqelir  sffmphany. 

M11.T0X. 

3.  THE   OCEAN. 

Kull  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean — roll ! 
Thi  th<yusand  fl^ts  |  sweep  over  thee  in  vain; 
Man  I  marks  tlie  Mrfh  with  ndn, — his  contr61  | 
IStops  with  the  shore;   upon  the  watery  plain  | 
The  icrMs  are  all  thp  deed,  nor  doth  remain  | 
A  shddow  of  man's  ravage,  save  his  6wn, 
When  for  a  moment,  like  a  drop  of  rain, 
He  sinks  into  thy  depths  |  with  bubbling  groan, 
WitlwMit  >\  *rrny^\  unkneUed,  uncoffined,  and  unknown. 

Byron. 

4.  THE   ORGAN. 

Suddenly  the  notes  of  the  deep-laboring  drgan  burst 
ipon  the  ear,  falling  with  doubled  and  redoubled  int^n- 

ty,  and  roUing,  as  it  were,  huge  billows  of  s6und. 
low  well  do  their  volume  and  grandeur  accord  with 
I  his  mighty  bfiilding !  With  what  pomp  do  they  swell 
tlirough  its  vast  viiults,  and  breathe  their  awfid  har- 
iKmy  through  these  caves  of  d^th,  and  make  the  silent 
- -pulcher  v6cal !  And  now  they  rise  in  triumph  and 
.i(clam»Uiou,  heaving  higher  and  higher  their  accordant 
ii<')k*s,  and  piling  sdtind  on  sound.  And  now  they  pduse^ 
and  the  soft  voices  of  the  choir  break  out  into  sweet 
trushes  of  mMody;  they  soar  aJ6fty  and  warble  along  the 
r'>nf.  and  seem  to  play  about  these  lofty  vaults  like  the 
pun*  airs  of  Jt^aven.    Again  the  pealing  organ  lieaves 


226  SCHOOL  ELorrTTox. 

its  thrilling  tlnuHUrs^  cuiiipivssiiig  (ur  into  7nusic,  and 
rolling  if  forth  upon  the  soul.  What  long-drawn  ca- 
dences I  What  solemn,  swhping  concords!  It  grows 
more  and  more  dense  and  powerful;  it  fills  the  vast 
pUey  and  seems  to  jar  the  v^ry  wdlls;  the  ear  is  stunned^ 
the  senses  are  overwMlmed.  And  now  it  is  winding  up 
in  full  jiihilee;  it  is  rising  from  the  ^arth  to  Maven; 
the  very  soul  seems  rapt  away  and  floated  upwards  on 
this  swelling  tide  of  hdrmony.  ibving. 

5.      PERORATION  OP  WEBSTER'S  PLYMOUTH  ROCK  ORATION. 

Advance,  then,  ye  future  yenerdtions  !  We  would  Mil 
you,  as  you  rise  in  your  long  succession,  to  fill  the 
places  which  wh  now  fill,  and  to  taste  the  blessings  of 
existence,  where  %ce  are  passing^  and  soon  shall  have 
passed,  our  own  human  dunition.  We  bid  you  welcome 
to  this  pleasant  land  of  the  fathers.  We  bid  you  ivUcome 
to  the  healthful  sh)es  and  the  verdant  fields  of  New  Encr- 
land.  We  greet  your  accession  to  the  great  inMritan 
which  icP  have  enjoyed.  We  welcome  you  to  the  bless- 
ings of  good  gbvemment  and  religious  liberty.  We  wel- 
come you  to  the  treasures  of  scnence^  and  the  delights 
of  learning.  We  welcome  you  to  the  transcendent  sweets 
of  domestic  Fife,  to  the  happiness  of  l-hidred,  and  imrents, 
and  children .  We  welcome  you  to  the  immeasurable 
blessings  of  rational  existence^  the  immortal  hope  of 
Christ idnity J  and  the  light  of  everlasting  Truth! 

6.      GOD    IN   NATURE. 

•^  God,"  sing  ye  meadow  streams,  with  gladsome  voice ! 

Ye  pine  groves,  with  your  soft  and  soul-like  sounds! 

Ye  living  flowers  that  skirt  the  eternal  frost! 

Ye  wild  goats  sporting  round  the  eagle's  nest! 

Ye  eagles,  playmates  of  the  mountain  storm! 

Ye  lightnings,  the  dread  arrows  of  the  clouds! 

Ye  signs  and  wonders  of  the  elements! 

Utter  forth  "  God,"  and  fill  the  hills  with  praise ! 

From  Ck)LEBii>OE's  Hymn  to  Mont  Blanc. 


SCHOOL     K  !.()(    TTION.  227 

7.      A    NfcW    YhAU'S   CHIME. 

Ho!  ye  wardens  of  the  l)ells, 

Ring!  ring!   ring! 
Ring  for  winter's  bracing  hours, 
Ring  for  birth  of  spring  and  flowers, 
Ring  for  summer's  fruitful  treasiire, 
Ring  for  autumn's  boundless  measure, 
Ring  for  hands  of  generous  giving, 
Ring  for  vows  of  nobler  living, 
Ring  for  truths  of  tongue  or  pen, 
Ringj  "Peace  on  earth,  good- will  toward  men.** 

Ring!  ring!   ring! 
Ring,  that  this  glad  year  may  see 
Earth's  accomplished  jubilee! 

Ring  !   ring  !   ring  ! 

8.      REVERENCE. 

O  Lord,  my  God,  Thou  art  very  great!  Thou  art 
clothed  with  honor  and  majesty  j  who  coverest  thyself 
with  light  as  with  a  garment;  who  stretchest  out  the 
heavens  like  a  curtain;  who  layeth  the  beams  of  his 
chambers  in  the  waters;  who  maketh  the  clouds  his 
chariot;  who  walketh  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind; 
who  laid  the  foundations  of  tlio  oarth,  that  it  should 
not  be  removed  forever.  tiu  Sfbu. 

Examples  op  Explosive  .Orotund. 

1.      THE  BATTLE  OF   IVRY. 

Vow  glory  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  from  whom  dll  glories 
are! 

And  glory  to  our  Sovereign  TJrge,  King  Uhiry  of  Na- 
varre! 

\<>w  let  there  be  the  m.  ri\  >..iiihI  of  milisic  and  the 
(lAncey 

Tlirough  thy  comfieUls  given,  and  sunny  v^es,  0  pleas- 
ant land  of  Frit  nee! 


228  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

And  thdUy  Roch^lle,  our  own  Rochelle,  proud  city  of  tli< 

wdters, 
Again   let  rdpture   li-lit    the   eyes  of  all  thy  mouiniuo 

dtiughters ; 
As  thou  wert  constant  in  our  UlSy  be  joyous  in  our  joi/. 
For  c61d  and  stiff  and  still  are  they  who  wrought  tliy 

walls  ann^y. 
Hun*»\h!   hurrdh!  a  sinsrl*^  fiHd  liath  turned  the  oliaiioo 

of  wkr. 
Hurnlh!  hurrdh!  for  Ivry  and  Kitig  H^nry  of  Kamrn  '. 

MACAt'LAY. 

2.     RICHMOND  TO  HIS  TROOPS. 

Flghty  gentlemen  of  England!  fight,  bold  yhmen! 
Ih'dWj  archers,  draw  your  arrows  to  the  hf^ad: 
Spur  your  proud  horses  hdrd^  and  ride  in  blood; 
Amaze  the  welkin  with  your  broken  staves. 
A  thousand  hearts  are  great  within  my  bosom: 
Advance  our  standards j  set  upon  our  foes! 
Our  ancient  word  of  couragey  fair  St.  George, 
Inspire  us  ^i-ith  the  spleen  of  fiery  dragons! 
Upon  them!     Victory  sits  on  our  h^lms.      shakespeaim 

^.      INDEPENDENCE. 

The  great  bell  swung  as  ne^er  before: 
It  seemed  as  it  would  never  cease; 
And  every  word  its  ardor  flung 
From  off  its  jubilant  iron  tongue 

Was,  "War!  War!  WAR!"  reap. 

4.   INDEPENDENCE. 

Sir,  before  God,  I  believe  the  hour  is  cdme!  Mj  judg- 
ment approves  this  measure,  and  my  whole  heart  is  )n 
it.  All  that  I  have,  and  all  that  I  dm,  and  all  that  I 
h^pe,  in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  here  to  stdlie  upon  it; 
and  I  leave  6ff,  as  I  hegdn,  that,  live  or  d)e,  survive  or 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  229 

[Hi-islt,  1  am  for  the  declardtion!  It  is  my  living  seuti- 
iiient,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  Uod,  it  shall  be  my  dfihuj 
scutimeut — Independence  n6u\  ami  hidrftt^ndence  \  foHver! 

Webstek. 

Explosive  and  Expulsive  Orotund. 

These  two  forms  of  the  orotund  are  often  combined 
ill  the  same  piece,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  draw  a  marked 
line  of  division.  In  impassioned  declamation  the  utter- 
iice  changes  from  one  to  the  other,  according  to  the 
(l(*<n*ee  of  feeling  or  passion.  The  following  extract 
attortls  an  illustration: 

1.      WEBSTER'S  TRIBUTE  TO  MASSACHUSETTS. 

Mr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon 
Massachusetts;  she  needs  none.  There  she  is;  behold 
lier,  and  judge  for  yourselves.  There  is  her  history; 
the  world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  imst,  at  least,  is  secure. 
There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and 
Bunker  Hill;  and  there  they  will  remain  forhver.  The 
bones  of  her  s6ns,  fallen  in  the  great  struggle  for  Inde- 
pendence, now  lie  mingled  with  the  soil  of  every  State, 

rom  New  England  to  Ge6rgia;  and  there  they  will  lie 
forever. 

And,  sir,  where  American  Liberty  raised  its  first  v6ice, 
and  where  its  youth  was  niu*tured  and  sustained,  there 
it  still  Uves,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood,  and  full  of 
its  original  sp)rit.  K  discord  and  disunion  shall  wound 
it;  if  party  strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk  at  and 
f''ar  it;  if  folly  and  madness,  if  uneasiness  under  sidu- 
tary  and  necessary  restraint,  shall  succeed  in  separating 
it  fmm  that  Union  by  which  alone  its  existence  is  made 

lire — it  will  stand,  in  tlie  end,  by  tlie  side  of  that  cradle 

III  which  its  infancy  was  rocked;  it  will  stretc^h  forth  its 

;'i!-m.  with  wliat*  V(  r  of  viwr  it  may  still  retain,  over  the 

/'  /  11     and  it  will  fall  at  Idst^  if 


230 


SCHOOL    EXiOCUTION 


tall  it  miistj  amid   the  proudest  monumenh   ui   its   own 
fjldryy  and  on  the  very  ffpot  of  its  drigin. 


ni.      ASPIltATED    QUALIIT. 

Aspirated  quality  means,  in  general,  a  combination  of 
tone  with  whisper,  causing  the  huskiness  and  harshness 
produced  by  a  superabundance  of  breath  under  the  iii- 
lluence  of  powerful  emotions,  such  as  anger,  rage,  terror. 
and  horror.  The  whisper  represents  the  extreme  ot 
aspirated  quality. 

The  Whisper. 

The  piu-e  whisper  lies  half  way  between  breathing 
and  vocality.  The  half-whisper  is  a  combination  of 
tone  and  whisper.  The  forcible  whisper  is  a  most  val- 
uable vocal  exercise.  It  requires  full,  deep,  and  frequent 
breathing,  and  the  vigorous  use  of  the  lips,  tongue,  and 
other  vocal  organs.  The  degrees  of  force  in  the  whisper 
are  indicated  by  the  terms  effusive,  expulsive,  and  ex- 
plosive. 

The  pure  whisper  is  rarely  used  in  reading,  the  effect 
being  generally  suggested  by  the  half -whisper,  or  by  aspi- 
rated quality.  The  following  exercises  and  examples  are 
given  for  the  purposes  of  vocal  training. 

Table  of  Aspirates. 

\_First  whisper  the  words,  then  the  aspirates,  and  then  give  the  phonic 
spelling  of  each  word  in  a  forcible  whisver.'] 


1 

p 

p-i-pe. 

H-p 

t 

t-en-t, 

t-as-te 

wli 

wh-en, 

wh-y 

ch 

ch-ur-ch, 

bir-ch 

•     f 

f-i-fe, 

lea-f 

sh 

sh-all. 

la-sh 

th 

th-ick. 

niy-th 

h 

h-ow, 

h-ail 

s 

s-ale 

le-ss 

k 

-ea-ke, 

la-ke 

school  elocution.  231 

Whisper  Drill. 

Practice  each  exercise  teith  three  degrees  of  force:  (1) 
Efusive,  or  soft.  (2)  Expulsive^  or  forcible.  (3)  Explo- 
it ve^  or  intense. 

1.  With  effusive  force,  repeat  as  many  times  as  pos- 
sible without  taking  breath:   a-e-i-6-u. 

2.  To  a,  e,  T,  <">,  fi,  join  /,  and  repeat  as  above;  jom 
/;   join  h. 

3.  Count,  in  a  whisper,  from  one  to  ten,  with  oiu' 
breath;   from  one  to  twenty;   one  to  thirty,  or  more. 

Examples  op  Effusive  Whisper. 

1.  Step  softly,  and  speak  low. 

2.  Whisper!   she  is  going  to  her  final  rest. 
Whisper!   life  is  growing  dim  within  her  breast. 

3.  Hark!  hist!   around  I  list. 

The  bounds  of  space  all  trace  efface 
Of  sound. 

4.  And  his  little  daughter  whispered, 

As  she  took  his  icy  hand: 
"Isn't  God  upon  the  water, 

Just  the  same  as  on  the  land!" 

5.  And  again  to  the  child  I  whispered: 

"  The  snow  that  husheth  all, 
Darlinrf,  the  merciful  Father 
Mo,'  .ike  it  falir 

'.  And  the  bridenmidcus  whispered:  ^'"'Twere  better  bif  far. 
To  have  matched  our  fair  cousin  with  young  Loch  in  car.'' 

7.    The  red  rose  cries,  "She  is  near,  she  is  near;'' 
And  the  white  rose  weeps,  "She  is  late;" 
The  larkspur  listens,  "I  hear,  I  hear;" 
And  the  lily  whispers,  "I  waif 


-32  school  elocution. 

Examples  of  Expulsive  Whisper. 

1.  Or  whispering  with  white  lips,  "The  foe!  they 
come!   they  come!" 

2.    To  bed,  to  bed;  there's  knockiug  at  the  gate. 
Come,  come,  come,  give  me  your  hand. 

3.  Soldiers!  You  are  now  within  a  few  steps  of  tb<' 
enemy's  outposts.  Let  every  man  keep  the  strictest 
silence,  under  pain  of  instant  death. 

ExAMPi^s  OP  ExPLOsn^E  Whisper. 

1.  Hark!  I  hear  the  bugles  pf  the  enemy.  For  fir 
boats!    Forward!    Forward! 

2.  Hamlet.     S(fw!  whdf  ' 

Horatio.    The  king,  your  father. 
Hamlet.     The  Mng,  my  fdtherf 

3.    Art  thou  some  </oV/,  some  dngelf  or  some  deoilj 

That  mak'st  my  blood  run  cold  and  my  hair  to  stand ! 

Whisper  and  Tone.    ' 

In  some  of  the  following  illustrations  of  aspirated 
quality,  the  ichisjyer  predominates  over  tone;  in  others, 
the  aspii*ation  only  affects  the  tone  with  a  marked 
roughness,  huskiness,  or  aspirated  harshness.  The  extent 
to  which  aspirated  quality  may  be  applied  is  often  a 
matter  of  taste  on  the  i^art  of  the  reader. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  But  hush!  hark!  a  deep  sound  strikes  like  a  rising 
knell. 

2.      THE  CURFEW  BELL. 

**8exton,"  Bessie's  white   lips   faltered,    pointing   to   the 

prison  old, 
With  its  walls  so  dark  and  gloomy — walls  so  dark,  and 

damp,  and  cold — 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  233 

IVe  a  lover  in  that  prison,  doomed  this  very  night 
to  die, 
At  the  ringing  of  the  Curfew,  and  no  earthly  help  is  nigh, 
i-omwell  will  not  come  till  sunset,"  and  her  face  grew 
strangely  white, 
As  bhe  spoke  in  husky  whispers,  "  Curfew  must  not  rimj 
to-nigh(J^ 

3.      MACBETH  TO  THE  GHOST. 

Avitunt!  and  quit  my  sight!    Let  the  earth  hide  thee! 
Thy  bones  are  mdrroiclesSj  thy  blood  is  cold  : 
Thou  hast  no  speculation  in  those  eyes 
Which  thou  dost  gldre  ^vith! 

Hhice,  horrible  shddow! 
Unreal  mockery y  hence! 

4.      HAMLET  TO  THE  GHOST. 

[J«pira(cd  quality  and  occasional  half-tchisper ."] 
Angels  and  ministers  of  grilce  defind  iis! 
Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damned — 
Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from  hell — 
Be  thy  intents  wicked,  or  charitable — 
Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shiqje 
That  I  will  speak  to  thee.    I'll  call  thee,  Hamlet, 
King,  father,  royal  D^ne:   Oh,  Miswer  me: 
Let  me  not  hitrst  in  ignorance!   but  tell 
Why  thy  canonized  bones,  hearsed  in  death, 
Have  burst  their  ct^rements!   why  the  sepulcher, 
Wherein  we  saw  thee  quietly  inurned. 
Hath  oped  his  i)ondcrous  and  marble  jaws, 
To  cast  thee  up  again  t    Wliat  may  tliis  mean, 
That  thou,  dead  corse,  again,  in  c6mplete  steel, 
Revisit'st  thus  the  glimpses  of  the  moon, 
Making  night  liideous:   and  we  iools  of  nature, 
So  horribly  to  shake  our  disi)osition, 
With  thoughts  beyond  the  reaches  of  our  soxds? 
Say,  whj)  is  thist  whhreforet  what  should  we  <Wf 


234  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

ij.      riiUAl    "EUGENE  ARAM." 

IHorror  and  remorse.    Aspirated  jyectoral  and  guttural  quality.'] 
And,  lo!  the  uiiiversal  air 

Seemed  lit  with  ghastly  flame; — 
Ten  thousand  thousand  di-eadful  eyes 

Were  looking  down  in  blame: 
I  took  the  dead  man  by  his  hand, 

And  caUed  upon  his  name! 

0  God!  it  made  me  quake  to  see 
Such  sense  within  the  slain! 

But  when  I  touched  the  lifeless  clay, 

The  blood  gushed  out  amain! 
For  every  clot,  a  burning  spot 

"Was  scorching  in  my  brain! 

And  now,  from  forth  the  frowning  sky, 
From  the  heaven^s  topmost  height, 

1  heard  a  voice — the  awful  voice 
Of  the  blood-avenging  sprite: — 

"jTAow  gnilty  man!   take  up  thy  dead 

And  hide  it  from  my  sight  !^^  hood. 

6.     MACBETH. 

[^Hon'or  and  fear.     Intense  suppressed  force;  prevailing  vwnoton' : 
very  slow  movement;  strong  aspirated  quality. '\ 

Now  o^er  the  one  half  world 
Nature  seems  d^ad;  and  wicked  dreams  abuse 
The  curtained  sleep;   now  >\i:tchcraft  celebrates 
Pale  Hecate^s  offerings;   and  withered  murder, 
Alanimed  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf, 
Whose  howl's  his  watch,  thus  with  his  stealthy  pace. 
Towards  his  design 

Moves  nice  a  ghost. — Thou  siire  and  firm-set  earth ! 
Hear  not  my  steps,  which  way  they  walk;   for  fear 
The  very  stones  prate  of  my  whereabout, 
And  take  the  present  horror  from  the  time 
Which  now  suits  with  it. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  235 

7.      DAi...   .    u....I:N   and    UIS   flying    MACIIIXK. 

[Secrecy.    Forcible  whutper  and  half -whisper.  ] 
And  one  by  one,  through  a  hole  in  the  wall, 
In  under  the  dusty  barn  they  crawl, 
Dressed  in  their  Sunday  garments  all; 
And  a  very  astonishing  sight  was  that, 
When  each  in  his  cobwebbed  coat  and  hat 
Came  up  through  the  floor  like  an  ancient  rat. 

And  there  they  hid; 

And  Reuben  slid 
The  fastenings  back,  and  the  door  undid. 

"Keep  dark!"  said  he, 
'^  While  I  squint  an'  see  what  the^  is  to  see.'' 

"Hush!"  Reuben  said, 

"He's  up  in  the  shed! 
He's  opened  the  winder — I  see  his  head! 
He  stretches  it  out,  an'  pokes  it  about, 
Lookin'  to  see  'f  the  coast  is  clear. 

An'  nobody  near; — 
Guess  he  don'o'  who's  hid  in  here! 
He's  riggin'  a  spring-board  over  the  sill! 
Stop  laffin',  Solomon  !     Burke,  keep  stjU ! 
He's  a-clunbing  out  now — Of  all  the  things! 
What's  he  got  ont    I  van,  it's  wings! 
An'  that  't other  thing?    I  vum,  it's  a  tail! 
An'  there  he  sets  like  a  hawk  on  a  rail ! 
Steppin'  careful,  he  travels  the  length 
Of  his  spriug-tioard,  and  teeters  to  try  its  strength. 
Now  he  stretches  his  wings,  like  a  monstrous  bat; 
Peeks  over  his  shoulder,  this  way  an'  that, 
Fer  to  see  'f  there's  any  one  passin'  by; 
But  there's  on'y  a  ca'f  an'  a  goslin'  nigli. 

Flop — flop — an'  phinip 

To  the  ground  >\ith  a  thump, 
Flutterin'  and  flounderin'  all  in  a  lump."        T«..%rB»iiKiE- 


236 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


Specla-l  Aspirate  Drill. 

[/n  pranouneing  the  following  words  having  the  combination  hw. 
the  aspiration  is  often  very  feebly  gieen  or  not  given  at  all.  Soutnl 
the  hw  tcith  marked  force.'} 


way 

wear 

whey 
where 

weal 

wheel 

wen 

when 

were 

whir 

wine 

whine 

wight 
wile 

white 
while 

IKeep  the 
each  icord.l 

whale 

PR 

lungs  well 

whap 
wharf 

wheat 

wheeze 

whelp 
whelm 

whence 

whew 

whiff 

whim 

whip 
whir 

' 

whirl 

Avhisk 

white 

wet 

whet 

wit 

whit 

wot 

what 

wig 

whig 

wield 

wheeled 

witch 

which 

wist 

whist 

weather 

whether 

Pronunciation  Drill. 

lungs  well  filled  with  air  and  exhamt  the  breath  vpon 


whalebone 

whapper 

wharfage 

what-not 

wheezing 

whereas 

wherever 

whenever 

whereby 

wherefore 

whiffle 

whinny 

whirlwind 

whistle 

whittle 

whither 


whatever 

whatsoever 

wheelbaiTow 

wheel-horse 

wheelwright 

whensoever 

wheresoever 

whereabout 

whereunto 

wherewithal 

whimper 

wliipsaw 

whirligig 

whisper 

wliizzing 

whoa 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  237 

rv.    Guttural  Quality. 

The  gutturaJj  or  throat,  quality  is  the  harsh,  grating, 
asping  utterance  to  which  the  voice  tends  in  the  ex- 
•ression  of  hatred,  contempt,  revenge,  and  loathing.  It 
>  often  combined  with  aspirated  quality  in  the  expres- 
lon  of  extreme  impatience  or  disgust,  intense  rage,  and 
xtreme  contempt. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  OTHELLO. 

Oh,  that  the  slave  had  foHy  tJwusmid  liveSy 
My  great  revenge  had  stomach  for  them  all. 

2.  THE  SPY. 

You  shall  fZ/c,  base  dog!  and  that  before 
Yon  cloud  has  passed  over  the  sun! 

3.      SHYLOCK  TO  ANTONIO. 

Signior  Antonio,  mdny  a  time  and  6ft, 
On  the  Rial  to  you  have  riifed  me 
About  my  moneys  and  my  dsance^; 
Still  have  I  home  it  with  a  patient  shrug^ 
For  sufferance  is  the  badge  of  all  our  tribe: 
You  call  me — misbeliever,  cfit-throat,  d6g, 
And  spH  upon  my  Jewish  gaberdine, 
And  aU  for  use  of  that  which  is  mine  own. 
Well,  th^n,  it  now  appears,  you  need  my  help. 
Go  to,  th^n;  you  come  to  me,  and  you  sdy, 
"Shylock,  we  would  have  moneys  f^  you  say  s6; 
YdUj  that  did  void  your  rheum  upon  my  h^ard^ 
And  f(>ot  me  as  you  spurn  a  stranger  cHr 
Over  your  threshold;  moneys  is  yoxir  silit. 
What  should  I  sdy  to  you?     Should  I  not  say, 
"Hath  a  dog  money f  is  it  possible 
A  cur  can  lend  thrh  thousand  ducats  t^^  or 
Shall  T  lM>nd  hhr,  and  in  a  hondman^s  key. 
With  bated  breath,  and  whisi^riug  humbleness, 


238  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Say  this:— 

"Fair  sir,  you  spdt  on  me  on  Wednesday  last; 
You  spAnied  me  such  a  d6y;  another  time 
You  called  me — dog;   and  for  these  courfefiies 
I'll  lend  you — thus  much — moneys." 

V.    The  Falsetto. 

The  falsetto  is  the  thin,  sharp,  high-pitched  tone  pro- 
duced when  the  voice  breaks,  or  gets  above  its  natural 
compass.  It  is  used  by  men  when  they  imitate  the  voie(  - 
of  women  and  children.  It  is  the  tone  suitable  for  tli« 
expression  of  old  age,  sickness,  feebleness,  pain,  and 
helpless  terror. 

1.  "3fy  child!   my  child !^  with  sobs  and  tears, 
She  shrieked  upon  his  callous  ears. 

2.  "Billy — ^where  are  you,  Billy,  I  sayt  Come,  Bill> 
come  home  to  your  best  of  mothers!'^ 

3.  And  even  Tiny  Tim,  excited  by  the  two  yoini 
Cratchits,  beat  on  the  t^ble  with  the  handle  of  his  knii« 
and  feebly  cried,  ^^ Hurrah!" 

4.  Mr.  Orator  Puff  had  two  tones  in  his  voice, 

The  one  squeaking  thuSy  and  the  other  down  so; 
In  each  sentence  he  uttered  he  gave  you  your  choice: 
For  one  half  was  B  alt,  and  the  rest  Gr  below. 
Oh !   oh !   Orator  Fuff, 
One  voice  for  an  orator's  surely  enough! 

"Oh!  save!"  he  exclaimed,  in  his  he-and-she  tones, 
"Help  me  out !  help  me  out !  I  have  broken  my  bones  ! " 
"Help  you  out!"  said  a  stranger,  who  passed,  "what 
a  bother! 
'  Why,  there 's  two  of  you  there  j   can't  you  help  one 
another?" 

Oh  !    oh !    Orator  Puff, 

One  voice  for  an  orator's  surely  enough! 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  239 

5.  And  in  a  coaxing  tone  he  cries, 
"  Charc&  !  charco' !  " 
And  baby  with  a  laugli  replies, 
''Ah,  go!  Ah,  goT 
''Chared'!''^'' Ah,  gor 

VI.    The  Semitone. 

When  the  voice  slides  through  the  interval  of  a  semi- 
tone only,  it  gives  the  plaintive  tones  expressive  of 
sadness,  grief,  or  pathetic  entreaty.  If  the  inflection 
runs  through  the  interval  of  a  tone  and  a  half — a  minor 
third  in  music — it  becomes  more  plaintive,  and  marks 
a  stronger  degree  of  pathos  or  sadness;  and  wlien  the 
inflection  extends  into  the  minor  fifth,  it  denotes  still 
stronger  pathetic  feeling. 

The  semitone,  then,  is  the  phiintive  tone  in  reading, 
con-esponding  to  the  minor  key  in  music.     It  should  be 
used  delicately,  for,  in  excess,  it  runs  into   the  whine, 
•r  becomes  the  affectation  of  cant. 

Semitone  Drill. 

1.  Sound  the  vocals,  a,  e,  i,  o,  ti,  three  times,  on  the 
interval  between  C  and  C  sharp;  then  on  the  minor 
third;  then  on  the  minor  fifth. 

2.  Coimt  from  one  to  twenty  on  the  same  notes  as 
above. 

Examples  op  Semitone. 

1.    O  come  in  life,  or  come  in  death, 
O  lost !  my  love,  Elizabeth. 

2.  For  I  am  poor  and  miserably  old. 

3.  How  many  hired  servants  of  my  father^s  have 
l>read  enough  and  to  spare,  and  I  perish  with  hunger! 
I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father  and  will  say  to  him 


240  ^(}jnc)h    ELOCUTION'. 

"Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  before  thee, 
and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son:  make 
me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants!" 

4.  MY  CHILD. 

I  can  not  make  him  d^d! 

His  fair  sunshiny  Mad 
Is  ever  bounding  round  my  study  chkir; 

Yet,  when  my  eyes,  now  dim 

With  tears,  I  turn  to  him, 
The  vision  vanishes,  he  is  not  iMre  ! 

I  walk  my  parlor  fl6or. 

And,  through  the  open  door, 
I  hear  a  f()otfall  on  the  chamber  stAir; 

Pm  stepping  toward  the  hall 

To  give  the  boy  a  call; 
And  then  bethink  me  that  he  is  iiot  there! 

PlEBIHiST. 

5.  HIAWATHA. 

O  the  long  and  dreary  Winter! 
O  the  cold  and  cruel  Winter! 
Ever  thicker,  thicker,  thicker 
Froze  the  ic«  on  lake  and  river; 
Ever  deeper,  deeper,  deeper 
Fell  the  snow  o^er  all  the  landscape, 
FeU  the  covering  snow,  and  drifted 
Through  the  forest,  round  the  \dllage. 

O  the  famine  and  the  fever! 

O  the  wasting  of  the  famine! 

O  the  blasting  of  the  fever! 

O  the  wailing  of  the  children! 

O  the  anguish  of  the  women! 

All  the  earth  was  sick  and  famished; 

Hungry  was  the  air  around  them. 

Hungry  was  the  sky  above  them, 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  241 


And  the  hungry,  stars  in  heaven 

Like  the  eyes  of  wolves  glared  at  them! 

"Give  your  children  food,  0  Father! 

Give  us  food,  or  we  must  perish! 

Give  me  foo<l  for  Minnehaha, 

For  my  dying  Minnehaha!" 

Through  the  far-resounding  forest, 

Through  the  forest  vast  and  vacant 

Rang  that  cry  of  desolation; 

But  there  came  no  other  answer 

Than  the  echo  of  his  crying, 

Than  the  echo  of  the  woodlands, 

" Minnehaha !   Minnehaha ! "  LosfiKriiow. 

6.     BABIE  BELL. 

It  came  upon  us  by  degrees, 

We  saw  its  shadow  ere  it  fell. 
The  knowledge  that  our  God  had  sent 

His  messenger  for  Babie  Bell. 

We  shuddered  with  unlanguaged  pain, 
And  all  our  thoughts  ran  into  tears, 

Like  sunshine  into  rain. 

We  cried  aloud  in  our  belief, 
"0^,  smite  us  genthj,  Qf^nihj,  God! 
Teach  us  to  bend  and  hiss  the  rodj 

And  perfect  groic  through  grief. ^ 
Ahj  how  we  loved  her^  Ood  can  tell; 

Her  he/trt  was  folded  deep  in  ours; 
Our  hearts  are  brokeuj  Babie  Bell.  Ai,n«i 

7.     MACBETH. 

To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-ftiorrow, 

Creei>8  in  tliis  petty  pace  from  day  to  day 

To  the  last  sylUible  of  recorded  time, 

And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lightetl  fools 

The  way  to  dusty  death.  RnAR««u««. 

le 


242  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

^.    y:T.v7  ykar's  t:vf.. 
You ^11  ])ury  liic.  my  Jiioilicr.  ju>i   IxiK-atli  tlic  liawthurn 

shade; 
And  ymrll   oc^mo   sometimes  and  see  me  whoro   T   nm 

lowly  laid. 
1   sliall   not  forget  you.  inolli         '         ill   licai-  }-<iu   when 

ynii  pass, 
With  yoiir  feet  above  my  head  in  tiic  lon;,^  and  pleasant 

grass. 

Good-night,  good-night!    When  I  have  said  good-night 

for  evermore, 
And  you  see  me  carried  out  ir<>ni  ih.-  thivshold  of  the 

door, 
Don't  let  Effie  come  to  see  me  till  my  grave  be  growing 

green — 
Shell  be  a  better  child  to  you  than  ever  I  have  been. 

Tbnkyson's  Ifay  ^^Meeii. 

0.      FROM   ''  BERTHA  IN  THE  T " 

[This  extrrc*   >h,^v'.J   l,r   vn!   ir-fh   snhrhird  unt, 

(Did  prcvai' 

LoiULT  grow  my  Jiaiui-^  and  foot: — 
When  I  wear  the  shroud  I  made, 

Let  the  folds  lie  straight  and  neat, 
And  the  rosemar^^  be  sju'cad; — 

That  if  any  friend  should  come 

(To  see  thee,  sweet!),  all  the  room 

May  be  lifted  out  of  gloom. 

And,  dear  Bertha,  let  me  keep 

On  my  hand  this  little  ring — 
Which  at  nights,  when  others  sleep, 

I  can  still  see  glittering. 
Let  me  wear  it  out  of  sight. 
In  the  grave — where  it  will  light 
All  the  dark  up,  day  and  night. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  243 

On  tliat  grave  drop  not  a  tear! 

Else,  though  fathom-deep  the  place, 
Through  the  woolen  shroud  I  wear 

I  shaU  feel  it  on  my  face. 
Rather  smile  there,  blessed  one, 
Thinking  of  me  in  the  sun; 
Or  forget  me — smiling  on!  k. b. bbowkhco. 

Vn.    Recapitulation  op  Quality. 

1.  Pure  tone  is  the  tone  of  ordinary  conversation,  and 
of  un impassioned  didactic,  narrative,  or  descriptive  reading. 

2.  The  orotund  is  the  tone  expressive  of  deep  feeling, 
of  reverence,  of  suhlimity,  and  of  grandeur.  It  prevails 
in  oratorical  declamation,  and  in  ihr  rradinff  or  recita- 
tion of  lyric  or  dramatic  poetry. 

3.  Aspirated  quality  is  expressive  of  secrecy,  feebleness, 
terror,  horror,  and  amazement. 

4.  Guttural  qualify  ?>  rrprrssirr  of  cZ/.s../*...,.  ,,, 
hatred,  and  reveng* . 

.").  The  setnitone  is  the  plaintive  expression,  in  the  minor 
key,  of  pathos,  pity,  grief,  or  entreaty. 

Examples  of  Quality. 

PURE   TONE. 

Was  it  the  chime  of  a  tiny  beU 

That  came  so  sweet  to  my  drtaming  ear? 

OROTUND. 

1.  Build  thee  more  stately  mansions,  O  my  soul! 

2.  And  let  the  bass  of  heaven's  deep  organ  blow. 

WHISPER. 

To  bed,  to  bed:   there's  knocking  at  the  gate. 
Come,  come,  come,  give  me  your  hand. 


244  iiooL    ELOCUTION. 

ASPIRATED. 

Angels,  and  ministers  of  grace,  dcfiiul  iis. 

OUTTURAL. 

How  like  a  fawnin  "   ■>>  he  looks! 

SBTlIi 

For  Heaven's  sake,  Hu)-  me  not  be  bound. 


Vill.    General  RKvn:\v  Driu.. 

1.   Repeat,  three  times,  the  1-  1    omuls,  a,  e,  i, 

o,  u:  (1)  With  moderate  rising  iulhn  limi.  •2)  ^NFoderate 
i.iHiim  inflection.  (3)  High  rising  iiill  imii  4)  Em- 
pliit:      lalling   inflection.      (5)    Higli    i  ivmnflex. 

(Gj  Emotional  fallimr  circiimflrx.     (7)  Low  monotone. 

o  IV.  .^  -f^lirce  times,  a.  r,  i,  6,  u:  (1)  With  very 
-  With  soft  foreo.  (3)  With  moderate 
force.     (4)  Lond  force.     (5)  Ver}^  loud  force. 

3.  Repeat,  three  times,  a,  e,  i,  6,  il:  (1)  With  ihe 
median  stro«<  |•:'^  With  the  radical  ^^^v....  (3)  With 
compound  ^  I;  With  vaiiisliiuir  5)  Thor- 
ough stress.      (G)  With  intermittent  stress. 

4.  Tir  '  ]-ee  times,  a,  e,  i,  o,  u:  (1)  With  slow 
movent t            _     With   moderate   movement.     (3)   With 

fast  mo\"emeiit. 


Kepeat.  tliree  times,  a,  e,  i,  6,  ti:  (1)  With  very 
i-h    pitrli.      (2)   With    high    pitch.      (3)   With    middle 

])iteh.  (4)  With  low  pitch.  (5)  With  ver\^  low  pitch. 
6.    Kepeat,   three   time-.    ;1.   e,   i,   o,   u:    (1)   With  the 

whisper.     (2)  With   piu-e  tone.     (3)  With  the  orotund. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  245 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MODULATION    AND    STYLE    OF 
EXPRESSION, 


SECTION  I. 
MODULATIOHr. 

1.  Modulation  is  the  variation  in  the  tones  of  the 
\oice  in  order  to  express  the  ever-varying  thought, 
feeling,  emotion,  or  passion  to  be  expressed. 

2.  These  changes  depend  largely  upon  the  perception, 
taste,  and  judgment  of  readers  j  upon  the  extent  to 
which  readei*s  tire  capable  of  entering  into  the  spirit  of 
what  they  readj  and  upon  the  flexibility  of  the  voice 
ill  expressing  different  shades  of  emotion  by  appropri-* 
ate  tones. 

3.  Tliere  are  certain  general  principles  that  control 
modulation,  but  there  are  no  fixed  rules  of  detail  which 
can  be  applied  in  the  exercise  of  "good  taste.^' 

4.  "The  importance  of  this  principle  of  adaptation  of 
N'oice,"  says  Prof.  William  Russell,  ''may  be  perceived 
1»y  adverting  to  the  fact,  that  nothing  so  imimirs  the 

(Tect  of  address,  as  the  want  of  spirit  and  expression 
in  elocution. 

5.  "No  gravity  of  tone,  or  intensity  of  utterance,  or 
precision  of  enunciation,  can  atone  for  the  absence  of 
tliat  natural  change  of  voice,  by  which  the  ear  is  enabled 
to  receive  and  recognize  the  tones  of  the  various  emo- 
tions accompanying  the  train  of  thought  which  the 
speaker  is  expressing.     These,  and  these  only,  can  indi- 


246  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

cate  his  own  sense  of  what  he  utters,  or  communicate 
it  by  sympathy  to  his  audience. 

6.  "The  adaptation  of  the  voice  to  the  expression  of 
sentiment  is  not  less  important,  when  considered  in  ref- 
erence to  meaning,  as  dependent  on  distinctions  strictl> 
intellectual,  or  not  necessarily  impljdng  a  viWd  or  varied 
succession  of  emotions. 

7.  "The  correct  and  adequate  representation  of  con 
tinuous  or  successive  thought,  requires  its  appropriate 
intonation;   as  may  be  observed  in  those  tones  of  voice 
which   naturally  accompany  discussion   and   argument, 
even  in  their  most  moderate  forms. 

8.  "The  modulation  or  varying  of  tone  is  important, 
also,  as  a  matter  of  cidtivated  taste.  It  is  the  appropri- 
ate grace  of  vocal  expression;  it  has  a  charm  founded 
in  the  constitution  of  our  nature;  it  touches  the  finest 
and  deepest  sensibilities  of  the  soul;  it  constitutes  the 
spirit  and  eloquence  of  the  human  voice,  whether  re- 
garded as  the  noblest  instrument  of  music,  or  the 
appointed  channel  of  thought  and  feeling." 

• 

I.    General  Prinxiples. 

1.  A  low  Tiey  is  the  natural  expression  of  awe,  rever- 
ence, solemnity,  sadness,  and  melancholy;  a  high  key,  of 
violent  passions,  such  as  anger  and  rage,  joy  and  exulta- 
tion. The  middle  key  is  the  natural  pitch  of  conversation, 
and  of  unimpassioned  narrative,  descriptive,  or  didactic 
writing. 

2.  Soft  or  gentle  force  is  expressive  of  subdued  feeling, 
pathos,  and  tenderness;  loud  force,  of  strong  passions 
and  oratorical  declamation;  moderate  force,  of  unimpas- 
sioned thought. 

3.  Slow  movement  is  appropriate  to  the  expression  of 
deep  thought,  power,  grandeur,  sublimity,  solemnity:  fast 
movement  is  characteristic  of  vivacity,  joy,  and  uneon- 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  247 

trolled  i)assion;  moderate  movement,  of  unimpassioned 
narrative,  descriptive,  or  didactic  pieces. 

4.  The  whisper  is  expressive  of  secrecy,  silence,  or 
extreme  fear;  guttural  quality,  of  revenge,  hatred,  despair, 
hoiTor,  or  loathing;  the  orotund,  of  power,  grandeur, 
vastness,  sublimity;  the  falsetto,  of  puerility  or  weak- 
luss;  the  semitone,  of  sadness  and  pathetic  entreaty. 

r».  The  radical  stress  is  expressive  of  command, 
assertion,  force,  power,  and  excited  feelings;  the  median 
stress,  of  peace,  tranquillity,  solemnity,  grandeur,  sub- 
limity, reverence,  and  awe. 

6.  Then  there  is  the  variety  that  arises  from  imitative 
i*eading,  or  the  suiting  of  the  sound  to  the  word,  phrase, 
or  sentence;  and  that  of  personation,  or  the  changes  of 
expression  to  denote  the  different  characters  in  a  dia- 
logue or  play. 

n.    Style  op  Reading. 

1.  The  following  amilysis  of  a  good  style  of  reading 
is  taken  from  Russell's  "American  School  Reader":  "If 
we  observe  attentively  the  voice  of  a  good  reader  or 
speaker,  we  shall  find  his  style  of  utterance  marked  by 
the  following  traits.  His  voice  pleases  the  ear  by  it« 
\i*ry  sound.  It  is  wholly  free  from  affected  suavity; 
\»'t,  while  perfectly  natural,  it  is  round,  smooth,  and 
airrci  able.  It  is  equally  free  from  the  faults  of  feeble- 
ii»'>s  and  of  undue  loudness. 

-.  ''It  is  perfectly  distinct,  in  the  execution  of  every 
sound,  in  every  word.  It  is  free  from  errors  of  negli- 
ircnt  usage  and  corrupted  style  in  pronunciation.  It 
iNoids  a  measured,  rhythmical  chant,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  a  broken,  irregulai*  movement,  on  the  other. 

3.  "It  renders  expression  clear,  by  an  attentive  ob- 
servauce  of  appropriate  pauses,  and  gives  weight  and 
effect  to  sentiment,  by  occasional  impressive  cessations 

1      Ml..        It   sheds  light  on  the  meaning  of  sentences, 


248  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

by  the  emphatic  force  which  it  gives  to  significant  and 
expressive  words. 

4.  "It  avoids  the  'school'  tone  of  uniform  inflections, 
and  varies  the  voice  upward  or  downward,  as  the  suc- 
cessive clauses  of  a  sentence  demand.  It  marks  the 
character  of  every  emotion,  by  its  peculiar  traits  of 
tone;  and  hence  its  effect  upon  the  ear,  in  the  utterance 
of  connected  sentences  and  paragraphs,  is  like  that 
a  varitnl  melody,  in  music,  played  or  sung  with  <'\ 
varying  feeling  and  expression." 


SECTION   n. 
THE   REABINO    OF   POETRY, 

I .    Introductory. 

1.  Pupils  arc  sometimes  told  to  read  verse  as  ir  it  were 
prose.  Such  a  direction  may  be  given  to  counteract 
the  tendency  to  sing-song,  or  it  may  be  applied  in  the 
reading  of  doggerel  rhymes ;  but  it  cannot  be  applied  to 
the  reading  of  poetry. 

2.  Poetry,  being  the  language  of  imagination,  senti- 
ment, or  passion,  requires,  as  compared  with  prose,  a 
greater  variety  of  expression.  Moreover,  poetry  is 
rhythmical  and  melodious,  and,  in  reading  it,  attention 
must  be  given  to  movement  and  harmony. 

3.  "The  modulation  of  the  voice,"  says  Prof.  Russell, 
"in  adaptation  to  different  species  of  metrical  composi- 
tiotiy  is  indispensable  to  the  appropriate  or  effective 
reading  of  vei'se.  The  purest  forms  of  poetry  become, 
when  deprived  of  this  aid,  nothing  but  awkward  prose. 
A  just  and  delicate  observance  of  the  effect  of  meter, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  one  of  the  surest  means  of  im- 
pairing that  inspiration  of  feeling  which  it  is  the  de- 
sign of  poetr^^  to  produce.'' 


SCHOOL    ri.M,  iTiuN.  249 

4.  In  the  reading  of  porir\,  un-  pupil  should  Ix-ar  in 
mind  the  following  hints:  (1)  The  movement,  or  tune, 
ill  verse,  is  generally  slower  than  in  prose,  tlie  vowel 
and  liquid  sounds  being  slightly  prolonged.  (2)  In 
poetry,  as  compared  with  prose,  the  force  is  somewhat 
softened  for  the  sake  of  melody.  (3)  The  existence  of 
meter  in  poetry  requires  a  rendering  of  verse  different 
from  the  reading  of  prose.  The  meter  should  not  be 
made  prominent,  but  should  be  delicately  indicated.  As 
in  prose,  attention  must  be  given  to  the  sense,  to  em- 
phasis, and  to  inflection. 

II.    C^suRAL  Pauses. 

The  caesural  pause  is  a  slight  rest  occurring  some- 
where near  the  middle  of  the  Une  in  certain  kinds  of 
verse.  In  heroic  and  blank  verse,  it  commonly  falls  at 
the  end  of  the  fourth  syllable.  In  smoothly  written 
verse,  the  gi*ammatical  pause  nuirking  a  phrase  or  a 
clause  is  t)ften  made  to  coincide  with  the  ca?8ural  pause. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.    This  is  the  place,  |  the  centre  of  the  grove : 
Here  stands  the  oak,  I  the  monarch  of  the  wood. 
How  sweet  and  solemn  |  is  this  midnight  scene! 
The  silver  moon,  |  unclouded,  holds  her  way 
Through  skies  where  I  |  could  count  each  little  star; 
The  fanning  west  wind  |  scarcely  stirs  the  leaves. 

1.    A  man  he  was  |  to  all  the  country  dear. 
And  passing  rich  |  with  forty  pounds  a  year; 
Remote  from  towns  |  he  ran  his  godly  race, 
Nor  e*er  had  changed,  |  nor  wished  to  change,  his  pla<'e ; 
Unpractice<l  he  |  to  fawn,  or  seek  for  power. 
By  doctrines  fashioneil  |  to  the  varying  hour; 
Far  oth(»r  aims  [  his  heart  had  learned  to  prize. 
More  skilled  to  raise  \  the  wretched  than  to  rise. 


250  SCHOOL    ELOrUTION. 

III.    Meter,  or  Kjhuimical  Accent. 

1.  Meter  is  the  measure  of  rhythm,  or  metrical  foot 
in  poetrj\     One  difference  between  the  reading  of  pro- 
and  of  poetry  consists  in  the  distinctive  marking  of  tli« 
rhythm  in  verse.     If  read  without  regard -to  rhythm, 
the  sonorous  harmony  of  the  hitrher  forms  of  poetry  is 
lost. 

2.  As  some  knowledge  oi  ^..  .,  ..  -,  ..irally  obtain  '' 

from  the  school  text-books  on  rhetoric,  only  an  allusi* 
to  the  subject  is  necessary  in  a  manual  of  elocution. 

3.  In  reading  poetrj',  the  measure  should  be  delicately 
indicated,  but  not  made  so  prominent  as  to  mn  into 
sing-song,  or  to  break  the  grammatical  relation  of  wor(  1 

4.  The  melody  of  verse  oft^n  depends  on  making  son 
word,  or  successive  words,  slightly  emphatic,  as  in  tl 
following  line  from  Longfellow's  "Psalm  of  Life:^' 

"jdikf  things  I  are  not  |  tchat  they  ]  seemJ^ 
If  "nof  is  emphasized,  the  rh>i;hm  is  broken.     So  in 
the   successive   stanzas   of    Brj-ant's   "Planting   of    the 
Apple-tree,"  the  emphasis  in   the  last  lino   of*  the  suc- 
cessive stanzas  falls  as  follows: 

1.  "  So  plant  we  |  the  apjile-treeJ- 

2.  "When  we  plant  |  the  apple-treej"  etc. 

IV.    Kinds  of  Verse. 

1.  The  following  summar}^  from  Prof.  Russell's  "iVmer- 
ican  Elocutionist"  may  be  of  interest  to  the  critical 
student:  "The  influence  of  the  various  kinds  of  verse 
on  the  voice  may  be  considered  as  affecting  general! }- 
the  rrtfe,  or  movement,  and  tlie  thnej  of  utterance. 

2.  "Thus,  hlanlt  verse  is  remarkably  slow  and  stately 
in  the  character  of  its  tone;  and  the  timing  of  the 
pauses  requires  attention  chiefly  to  length.  Heroic  verse 
is  commonly  in  the  same  prevailing  strain,  biit  not  tn 
such  an  extent  as  the  preceding. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  251 

3.  "  The  octo-sylldbic  meter  is  generally  more  quick  and 
lively  in  its  movement,  and  the  pauses  are  comparatively 
brief.  But,  under  the  influence  of  slow  time,  it  gives 
intensity  to  grief,  and  tenderness  to  the  pathetic  tone. 
The  quatrain,  or  four-line  stanza,  in  the  common 
mijii  (called  sometimes  common  meter),  has  a  compara- 
tively musical  airangement  of  the  lines,  and  a  peculiar 
haracter  in  its  cadence,  which  admits  of  its  expressing 
;  lie  extremes  of  emotion  ichether  grave  or  gay.  It  prevails, 
accordingly,  in  hymns  and  in  ballads  alike,  whether  the 
latter  are  pathetic  or  humorous.  It  derives  the  fonner 
character  from  the  observance  of  slow  rate,  and  the  lat- 
ter from  quick  rate. 

5.  "  Trochaic  verse  has  a  peculiar  energy,  from  the 
abruptness  of  its  chai*acter — the  foot  commencing  either 
with  a  long  or  an  accented  syllable.  In  gay  pieces,  and 
with  quick  time  in  utterance,  it  produces  a  dancing  strain 
of  voice,  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  expression  of  joy; 
while  in  grave  and  vehement  strains,  with  slow  time,  it 
produces  the  utmost  force  and  severity  of  tone.  These 
two    extremes    are    strikingly    exemplified    in    Milton's 

L 'Allegro'  and  ^11  Penseroso.' 

6.  ^^Anapcestic  meter  has  a  peculiar  fullness  and  sweet- 
ness of  melody.  Slow  time  accordingly  renders  it  deeply 
pathetic,  and  quick  time  renders  it  the  most  graceful 
•  xpression  ot  joy.  This,  as  well  as  iambic  and  trochaic 
verse,  becomes  well  fitted  to  express  the  mood  of  calm- 
ness and  tranquillity,  when  the  rate  is  rendered  moderate.'' 

V.    Accent  of  Words. 

The  accent  of  a  word  is  sometimes  changed  to  prevent 
breaking  the  measure,  as  in  the  following  examples: 

1.  Ye  icefalls!  ye  that  from  your  dizzy  heights 
Adown  enonnous  rav'ines  slope  amain. 
2.  That  tliou,  dead  corse)  arrayed  in  com'plete  steeL 


252  '    IH..H      KLOIJUTION. 

3.  And  these  lew  precepts  in  thy  memory,  see  thou 
charac'ter. 

4.  Then  lend  the  eye  a  terrible  aspect". 

5.  I  must  be  patient  till  the  heavens  look  with  an 
expect'  more  favorable. 

VI.    Final  -ed. 

The  final  -ed  is  often  sounded  as  a  separate  syllabi . 
to  prevent  a  break  in  the  meter. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.  To  live  with  her  and  live  with  thee 
In  unreprov^rf  pleasures  free. 

2.  Of  linkerf  sweetness  long  drawn  out. 

3.  Rode  ami^  men  adown  the  glen. 

4.  Through  this  the  well-belov^rf  Brutus  stabbed. 

5.  And  as  he  plucked  his  cursedf  steel  away. 

6.  To  wear  an  undeservVrf  dignity. 

7.  That  orb^  maiden  with  white  fii-e  laden. 

8.  Whereat  she  smiled  with  so  sweet  a  cheer. 

9.  While  that  tli<    anm'd  hand  doth  fight  abroad, 
The  advised  head  defends  itself  at  home. 

Vn.    Rhyme. 

In  reading  poetry,  the  words  that  rhyme  must  som 
times  be  specially  emphasized.     Sometimes,  also,  the  pro- 
nunciation of  a  word  may  be  changed  to  make  it  rhyme 
with  another  word,  as  mnd  for  wind. 
In  reading  the  follo^'ing  couplet  from  Hudibras, 
"And  pulpit,  dinim  ecclesiastic. 
He  beat  with  drum  instead  of  a  stick," 
it  becomes  necessary  to  emphasize  the  «,  or  rather  to 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION*.  253 

souud  tlic  two  \vord.s  "a  stick"  like  a  word  of  two  syl- 
lables accented  on  the  first,  thus — a'sticJc. 

In  reading  the  following  lines  from  the  same  poem, 
the  word  "coloneling"  is  pronounced  exactly  as  it  is 
>pelle<l,  col'o  nel  ingj  in  four  syllables: 

"Then  did  Sir  Knight  abandon  dwelling. 
And  out  he  rode  a-colonellngy 
Also,  in  the  follo^ving, 

**^And  wisely  tell  what  hour  o'  th'  day 
The  clock  does  strike,  by  algebra," 
the  long  sound  is  given  to  final  <t  in  algebra,  to  make 
(he  word  rhjTne  with  day. 

In  the  following  couplets  from  Holmes,  the  rhyming 
words  are  italipized  for  emphasis: 
"It  is  a  pity  and  a  shame — alas!   alas!   I  T{now  it  is, 
To  tread  the  trodden  grapes  again,  but  so  it  has  been, 
so  it  is." 
In  this  example  the  three  words,  "know  it  is,"  are 
])ronounced  like  a  word  of  three  syllables,  accented  on 
the  first,  thus — A*wojr'-it-is ;   so,  also,  so'-it-is. 

Vni.    Examples  op  Rhyme. 

1.     AT  THB  ATIiANTIO  DINNER. 

I  suppose  it's  myself  that  you're  making  allusion  to. 
And  bringing  the  sense  of  dismay  and  confusion  to. 
Of  course  some  must  speak — they  are  always  selected  to. 
But  pray  what's  the  reason  that  I  am  expected  tot 
Pm  not  fond  of  wasting  my  breath  as  those  fellows  do 
That  want  to  be  blowing  forever  as  bellows  do; 
Their  legs  are  luieasy,  but  why  vnW.  you  JQg  any 
That  long  to  stay  quiet  beneath  the  mahogany? 

BOUIM. 

2.      CLASS  MEKTINO,   1875. 

It  is  a  pity  and  a  shame — alas!  alas!   I  know  it  is, 
To  tread  the  trodden  grapes  again,  bat  so  it  has  been, 
so  it  ia; 


254  RCIIOOL    ELOCUTION. 

The  pui'ple  vintage  long  is  past,  with  ripened  clusters 

bursting  so 
They  filled  the  wine- vats  to  the  brim — ^'tis  strange  you 

will  be  thirsting  so! 

For  who  iean  tell  by  what  lie  likes  what  other  people's 
fancies  aret 

How  all  men  think  the  best  of  wives  their  own  par- 
ticular Nancies  are! 

If  what  I  sing  you  brings  a  smile,  you  ^vill  not  stop 
to  catechise. 

Nor  read  Boeotians  lumbering  line  with  nicely  scanning 
Attic  eyes. 

Though  on  the  once  unfurrowed  brows  the  harrow-teetli 

of  Time  may  show, 
Though   all   the   strain   of   crippling  years  the  halting 

feet  of  rhyme  may  show. 
We  look  and  hear  with  melting  hearts,  for  what  we  all 

remember  is 
The   mom   of   Spring,   nor  heed   how  chill   the   sky  of 

gray  November  is. 

Thanks  to  the  gracious  powers  above  from  all  mankind 

that  singled  us. 
And   dropped   the   pearl   of   friendship  in  the  cup  they 

kindly  mingled  us. 
And  bound   us  in   a  wreath   of   flowers  with  hoops  of 

steel  knit  under  it; — 
Nor  time,  nor  space,  nor  chance,  nor  change,  nor  death 

himself  shall  sunder  it!  holmes. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  255 

SECTION   III. 
IMITATIVE   READIKQ. 

The  extent  to  which  imitative  reading,  or  the  suiting 
of  sound  to  sense,  may  properly  be  carried,  in  certain 
classes  of  selections,  is  a  matter  in  regard  to  which 
tliere  is  a  diversity  of  opinion  among  elocutionists.  It 
is  one  of  those  questions  of  taste  that  cannot  be  regu- 
lated by  definite  directions  applicable  to  all  cases.  Some 
general  principles,  however,  may  be  laid  dovm,  from 
which  there  is  no  intelligent  dissent. 

The  style  of  reading  should  be  imitative  in  the  sense 
of  making  it  conform  to  the  spirit  and  meaning  of  the 
piece. 

In  the  utterance  of  words  in  which  the  sound  seems 
to  approximate  to  the  sense,  such  as  huzz,  hisSy  thunder , 
groan,  sigh,  scream,  etc.,  the  tone  may  be  suggestive  of 
tlie  idea.  Thus,  in  reading  such  passages  as, 
"From  his  lips  escaped  a  groan,^ 
though  an  actual  groan  would  be  ridiculous,  the  word 
"groan"  may  be  uttered  so  as  to  suggest  a  groan. 

EXASrPLES. 

1.  Hear  the  loud  aldrutn  bells — brdzen  bells. 

2.  Clang!  clang!  the  massive  anvils  ring. 

3.  BhWf  bugle;  answer  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

4.  Oh!  the  hells!  what  a  tale  their  terror  tells 

Of  despair! 
How  they  clang,  and  clash,  and  roar, 
What  a  horror  they  outpour 
On  the  bosom  of  the  palpitating  air  ! 

Wherever  the  author  distinctly  suggests  an  imitation, 
it  should  be  given  so  far  as  is  consistent  with  good 
taste.    Thus,  when  Longfellow  writes, 

"And  loud  that  clarion  voice  replied,'' 


256  SCHOOL    ELOrrTTOX. 

it   is   evident   that   the   refrain,     i.-MH-lsior!"  should   1.. 
given  in  a  loud,  clear,  resonant  manner. 

Examples  for  Practice. 

1.  A  voice  replied  far  up  the  height,  ^^ Excelsior!'' 

2.  She  seemed  in  the  same  silver  tones  to  say, 

"Passing  away,  passing  away!^ 

3.    What  this  grim,  ungainly,  ghastly,  gaunt,  and  ominou> 
bird  of  yore 

Meant  in  croaking,  "Nevermore." 

4.  An  ancient  time-piece  says  to  all, 
^^Farerer — never  !    Never— forever  !  " 

5.  "To  all  the  truth  we  teU,  wo  tell,'' 
Shouted  in  ecstasies  a  bell. 

6.     BUKKEB  HILL. 

How  the  bayonets  gleamed  and  glistened,  as  we  loohil 
far  dawn  and  listened 

To  the  trampling  and  the  drunv-heat  of  the  belted  gren- 
adiers. 

Over  heaps  all  torn    and  gorj- — shall    I    tell  the  fearful 
story. 

How  they  surged  nhnr,    the   breastworJc  as  a  sea  breal 
o'er  a  dech; 

How,    driven,   yet   scarce   defeated,   our  worn-out    men 
retreated. 

With  their  powder-horns  all  emptied,  like  the  swimmers 
from  a  wreck!  koluw. 

Imitation  should  not  be  too  literal.  The  attempt  is 
sometimes  made  in  reading  Tennyson's  "Bugle  Song, 
to  give  a  realistic  imitation  of  the  notes  of  a  bugle. 
While  the  professional  reader  may  attempt  such  a  feat 
of  vocal  gymnastics,  it  is  certainly  outside  of  the  limits 
of  good  taste  in  school  reading.     The  words,   "Blow, 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  257 

l»ugle,  blow,"  may  be  given  with  a  prolonged  swell,  and 
111  a  thin,  clear,  pure  tone,  so  as  to  suggest  the  bugle 

note. 

So  in  reciting  i'oc  "s  •  iJells,"  the  imitative  rendering 
is  often  carried  to  a  ridiculous  extreme.  In  these  and 
similar  cases  it  is  not  a  hteral  reproduction  of  the 
sound  that  should  be  attempted,  but  an  artistic  and 
itlealized  suggestion  of  it. 

EXAMPLES. 

1.    And  grmnmer,  grummer,  gi*ummer, 
Rolled  the  drum  of  the  drummer. 
Through  the  mom. 

And  rounder,  rounder,  rounder, 
Roared  the  iron  six-pounder, 
Hurling  death. 

2.    I  hear  them  marching  o'er  the  hill; 
I  hear  them  fainter,  fainter  still. 

3.      CHURCH  BELLS. 

"In  deeds  of  love,  excel!  excel i'^ 
Chimed  out  from  ivied  towers  a  bell. 

"O  heed  the  ancient  landmarks  well!" 
In  solemn  tones  exclaimed  a  belL 

"Ye  purifj-ing  waters  swell!" 
In  mellow  tones  rung  out  a  belL 

"To  all  the  truth  we  teU!   we  tell!" 
Shouted  in  ecstasies  a  bell. 

4.     WHEN  THE  COWS  COME  HOME.      . 

When  klingle.  Wangle,  klingle, 

Far  down  the  dusty  dingle, 

The  cows  are  coming  home; 
Now  sweet  and  clear,  now  faint  and  low, 
The  airy  tinklings  come  and  go, 
Like  chimiugs  from  the  far-off  tower, 

17 


258  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Or  patterings  of  an  April  shower 
That  makes  the  daisies  grow. 
Ko-ling,  ko-lang,  kolinglelingle, 
Far  down  the  darkening  dingle, 
The  cows  are  coming  home. 

5.     CfHARCOAL. 

And  thus  from  4nom  to  eve  he  cried, 

"  Charco' !  ctarco'  I ' 
While  echo  faint  and  fai-  replied, 

"CharcoM"— "Hark,  O!" 

And  in  a  coaxing  tone  he  cries, 

"CharcoM  charcoM" 
And  bahy  with  a  laugh  replies, 

"Ah,  go!"— ."Ah,  go!" 

"  Charcot !  "—"Ah,  go ! "  thowbeii>oe. 

6,     FIRE. 

Fire!  fire!  fire! 
See  the  red  flames  leaping  higher. 

Pent!  peal!  peal! 
Bells  of  brass  and  bells  of  steeL 

Crash  !  crash  !  crash  ! 
See  the  fiery  surges  lash! 

Fire!  fire!  fire! 
Bristles  every  throbbing  wire. 

7.  EXCELSIOR. 

And  like  a  silver  clarion  rung — ^^ Excelsior  !^ 
And  from  his  lips  escaped  a  groan — ^^Excelsior!" 
But  still  he  answered  with  a  sigli— ''Excelsior !'' 
A  voice  replied  far  up  the  height — ''Excelsior!^' 

8.  THE  BELLS. 

Hear  the  sledges  with  the  hells — stiver  bells! 
What  a  world  of  imrriment  their  melody  foretells! 


sriIOOL    ELOCUTION.  259 

Hear  tlie  mellow  wedding  bells — golden  bells! 
What  a  world  of  happiness  their  harmony  foretells! 

Hear  the  loud  aldrum  bells — hrdzen  bells! 

What  a  tale  of  terror  now  their  tnrbnlency  tells! 

Hear  the  idlling  of  the  bells — iron  b^ls! 

What  a  world  of  solemn  tJmufhftheiv  monody  compels ! 


SECTION   IV. 
EXERCI8E8   IN"  MODULATIOK 

Modulation  is  the  variation  of  voice  according  to  the 
sentiment^  thought,  or  emotion  to  be  expressed.  In  im- 
passioned reading,  tones  are  the  most  prominent  quali- 
ties of  voice. 

Thorough  drill  on  the  following  examples  will  break 
up  the  tendency  of  pupils  to  read  all  kinds  of  selections 
in  one  formal  "school-tone."  It  is  left  for  teachers  and 
pupils  to  exercise  their  own  judgment  and  taste  in  the 
rendering  of  these  extmcts.  wliich  embrace  a  wide  i^ange 
of  expression. 

HXAMPLES. 

1.  Blow,  bugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying. 
Blow,  bugle,  answer  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

2.  The  loud  wind  dwindled  to  a  whisper  low. 

n.  Tliere  is  a  silence  where  no  sound  may  be. 

4.  I  hear  them  marching  o'er  the  hill, 
I  hear  them  fainter,  fainter  stilL 

<  usha,  cusha,  cusha,''  calling. 

I'     /'/  arms!   to  arms!   to  arms!  they  cry. 

7.   Arm!  arm ! — ^it  is — ^it  is  the  cannon's  opening  roar. 

s.  Advance  your  sbmdards,  draw  your  willing  swords  I 


260  *  SCHOOL   ELOCUTION. 

9.  Pity  the  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  man. 

10.  Rinpr,  joyous  chords ! — ^ring  out  again ! 

11.  Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean,  roll. 

1^.   Come  and  trip  it,  as  ye  go. 
On  the  light  fan^istic  toe. 

13.  But  hush!  hark!   a  deep  sound  strikes  like  a  ris- 
ing knell. 

14.  Away!   away!   and  on  we  dash. 

15.  Forward  the  light  brigade! 

16.  All's  hushed  as  midnight  yet. 

17.  Hail!  holy  light,  offspring  of  Heaven,  first  bom. 

18.  Liberty!    Freedom!    Tyranny  is  dead! 

19.  Silence  how  dead!  and  darkness  how  profound! 

20.  Oi*  whispering  with  white  lips,   "The  foe!   they 
come,  they  come  ! " 

21.  Joy!  joy!     Shout,  shout  aloud  for  joy! 

22.  Strike!  till  the  last  armed  foe  expires! 

23.  How  like  a  fa^vning  publican  he  looks! 

24.  Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  O  Death! 

25.  Ring  the  alarm-beU!     Murder!   and  treason! 

26.  Ride  softly!   ride  slowly!   the  onset  is  near! 
Move  slowly!   move  softly!   the  sentry  may  heai*. 

27.  No !   by  St.  Bride  of  Bothwell,  no ! 

28.  On  a  sudden  open  fly 

The  infernal  gates,  and  on  their  hinges  grate 
Harsh  thunder! 

29.  Heaven  opened  wide 

Her  ever-dui^ing  gates,  harmonious  sound, 
On  golden  hinges  turning. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  261 

30.  But  gtiiller  now  the  small  waves  glide, 
Like  playful  lambs  on  a  mountain  side. 

;i.    With  many  a  weary  step,  and  many  a  groan, 
Up  the  high  hill  he  heaves  a  huge  round  stone. 

32.    When  Ajax  strives  some  rock's  vast  weight  to  throw. 
The  line,  too,  labors,  and  the  words  move  slow. 

;; ;.    Soft  is  the  strain  when  zephyr  gently  blows. 

And  the  smooth  stream  in  smoother  numbers  flows. 
But  when  loud  surges  lash  the  sounding  shore, 
The  hoarse  rough  verse  should  like  the  torrent  roar 

34.    Clang!  clang!  the  massive  anvils  ring, 
Clang!  clang!  a  hundred  hammers  swing; 
Like  tlie  thunder  rattle  of  a  tropic  sky. 
The  mighty  blows  still  multiply. 

35.     SONG  OP  THE  SHIBT. 

Work!  work!  work! 
Till  the  brain  begins  to  swim; 

Work!  work!  work,! 
Till  the  eyes  are  heavy  and  dim! 

Seam,  and  gusset,  and  band, 
Band,  and  gusset,  and  seam, 

Till  over  the  buttons  I  fall  asleep. 
And  sew  them  on  in  a  dream!  hooo. 

36.      THE  TWO  VOICES  FROM  THE  GRAVE. 

First  Voice. 

How  frightful  the  grave!  how  deserted  and  drear! 
With  the  howls  of  the  storm-wind,  the  creaks  of  the  bier, 
And  the  white  bones  all  clattering  together! 

Second  FcMCtf. 
How  peaceful  the  grave!  its  quiet  how  deep! 
Its  zephyrs  breathe  calmly,  and  soft  is  its  sleep, 
And  flow*ret8  peifume  it  with  other. 


262  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

37.  MILITAEY  COICMAND. 

"Forward  the  Light  Brigade! 

Charge  for  the  giins ! "  he  said. 

Shoulder  arms!     Forward  march!     Halt! 

Charge!  Chester,  charge!     On!  Stanley,  on! 

38.  THE  herald's  call. 

Rejoice,  ye  men  of  Angiers,  ring  your  bells, 

King  John,  your  king  and  England's,  doth  approach. 

Open  your  gates  and  give  the  victor  way. 


SECTION  V. 

DIALECT  READING  AND  PERSONATION. 

In  dialect  reading,  the  peculiarities  of  speech  should 
be  reproduced  with  fidelity,  but  should  not  be  exagger- 
ated. In  the  reading  of  dialogues  there  is,  of  necessity, 
a  marked  change  of  tone  and  manner  when  the  reader 
personates  two  or  more  characters. 

Examples  of  Dl^lect  Reading. 

1.      SKIPPER  IRESON'S  RIDE. 

Scores  of  women,  old  and  young, 
Strong  of  muscle,  and  glib  of  tongue. 
Pushed  aud  pulled  up  the  rocky  land, 
Shouting  and  singing  the  shrill  refi-ain: 
"Here  '5  Find  Oirson,  fur  his  horrd  horrt, 
Torrid  an^  futherr'd  an'  corr'd  in  a  corrt 
By  the  women  0'  Morhl^ead!"         whittier. 

2.      THE   deacon's  masterpiece. 

But  the  Deacon  swore,  as  deacons  do. 

With  an  "J  dew  vtim/'  or  an  "J  fell  yeoii,'"' 

He  would  build  one  shay  to  beat  the  taoiim, 

'n\  the  Jiaoiintij  'n'  all  the  Jcentry  raoun'; 

It  should  be  so  built  that  it  couJdn'  break  daowti. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  263 

"Fur/*  said  the  Deacon,  "'t's  mighty  plain 
Thut  the  weakes'  place  in  us'  stau'  the  strain; 
'n'  the  way  t'  fix  it,  uz  I  maintain, 

Is  only  jest 
T'  make  that  place  uz  strong  uz  the  rest." 

HOLMCS. 
3.      SPRING. 

O  little  city-gals,  don't  never  go  it 
Blind  on  the  wqrd  o'  noospaper  or  poet! 
They're  apt  to  puff,  an'  May-day  seldom  looks 
Up  in  the  country  ez  it  doos  in  books; 
They're  no  more  like  than  homets^-nests  an'  hives, 
Or  printed  sarmons  be  id  holy  lives. 
I,  with  my  trouses  perched  on  cow-hide  boots, 
Tuggin'  my  foundered  feet  out  by  the  roots, 
Hev  seen  ye  come  to  fling  on  April's  hearse 
Your  muslin  nosegays  from  the  milliner's — 
Puzzlin'  to  find  dry  ground  your  queen  to  choose. 
An'  dance  your  throats  sore  in  morocker  shoes; 
I've  seen  ye  an'  felt  proud,  thet,  come  wut  would, 
Our  Pilgrim  stock  wuz  pithed  witli  hardihood. 
Pleasure  does  make  us  Yankees  kind  o'  winch, 
Ez  though  'twiiz  sum  thin'  paid  for  by  the  inch; 
But  ^it  we  du  contrive  to  worry  thru — 
Ef  Dooty  tells  us  thet  the  thing's  to  du— 
An'  kerry  a  hollerday,  ef  we  set  out, 
Ez  stiddily  ez  tliough  'twuz  a  redoubt.  lowklu 

r       IHE    GRIDIRON. 

Patrick.  I  ]h"^  jcirdon,  sir;  but  maybe  I'm  under  a 
mistake,  but  I  tliuught  I  was  in  Prance,  sir.  An't  you 
all  furriners  here!    Parley  voo  frongsayt. 

Frenchman.    Oui,  monsieur. 

Patrick.  Then,  would  you  lind  me  the  loan  of  a  grid- 
iron, if  you  pla«ef  I  know  it's  a  liberty  I  take,  sir; 
but  it's  only  in  tlie  regard  of  bein'  cast  away;  and  if 
you  plase,  sir,  parley  voo  frongsayf 


264  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Frenchman.    Qui,  monsieur,  oiii. 

Patrick,  Then  would  you  lind  me  the  loan  of  a  gi*id- 
iron,  sir,  and  you'll  obleege  me? 

Frenchman.    Monsieur,  pardon,  monsieur — 

Patrick.    Then  lind  me  the  loan  of  a  gridiron,  I  say. 

Frenchman.    Oui,  oui,  monsieur. 

Patrick.  Then  lind  me  the  loan  of  a  gridiron,  and 
howld  your  prate.  Well,  111  give  you  one  chance  more, 
you  owld  thafe!  Are  you  a  Christian,  at  all,  at  all? 
Are  you  a  furriner  that  all  the  world  calls  so  p'litc? 
Bad  luck  to  you!  do  you  understand  your  mother 
tongue?  Parley  voo  frongsay?  (Very  loud. J  Parley 
voo  frongsay? 

Frenchman.    Oui,  monsieur,  oui,  oui. 

Patrick.  (Screaming.)  Thin  lind  me  the  loan  of  a 
gridiron  t 

5.     AFTKR-DINNKR  SPEECH  BY  A  rEENCHMAN. 

"Milors  and  Gentlemans — You  excellent  chairman,  M. 
le  Baron  de  Mount-Stuart,  he  have  say  to  me,  ^Make 
de  toast.'  Den  I  say  to  him  dat  I  have  no  toast  to 
make  J  but  he  nudge  my  elbow  ver  soft,  and  say  dat 
dere  is  von  toast  dat  nobody  but  von  Frenchman  can 
make  proper;  and,  derefore,  wid  your  kind  permission, 
I  viU  make  de  toast.  *De  brevete  is  de  sole  of  de  feet,' 
as  you  great  philosophere,  Dr.  Johnson,  do  say,  in  dat 
amusing  little  vork  of  his,  de  Pronouncing  Dictionnaire ; 
and,  derefore,  I  viU  not  say  ver  moch  to  de  point. 

"Ah!  mes  amis!  ven  I  hear  to  myself  de  flowing: 
speech,  de  oration  magnifique  of  you  Lor'  Maire,  Mon- 
sieur Gobbledown,  I  feel  dat  it  is  von  great  privilege' 
for  von  etranger  to  sit  at  de  same  table,  and  to  eat  d( 
same  food,  as  dat  gi-and,  dat  majestiqiie  man,  who  ai\ 
de  terreur  of  de  voleurs  and  de  brigands  of  de  metrop- 
olis; and  who  is  also,  I  for  to  suppose,  a  halternian 
and   de   chief   of  you  common   scoundrel.     Milors   and 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  265 

gentlemans,  I  feel  dat  I  can  pei*spire  to  no  greatare 
honneur  dan  to  be  von  common  scoundrelman  myself; 
but,  helas!  dat  plaisir  are  not  for  me,  as  I  are  not  free- 
man of  your  great  cite,  not  von  liverj^man  servant  of 
von  of  you  compagnies  joint-stock.  But  I  must  not 
forget  de  toast. 

"Milors  and  Gentlemans!  De  immortal  Shakispeare 
he  have  write,  *De  ting  of  beauty  are  de  joy  for  never- 
more.' It  is  de  ladies  who  are  de  toast.  Vat  is  more 
entrancing  dan  de  channante  smile,  de  soft  voice,  de 
vinking  eye  of  de  beautiful  lady!  It  is  de  ladies  who 
do  sweeten  de  cares  of  life.  It  is  de  ladies  who  are  de 
guiding  stars  of  our  existence.  It  is  de  ladies  who  do 
cheer  but  not  inebriate,  and,  derefore,  vid  all  homage 
to  dere  sex,  de  toast  dat  I  have  to  propose  is,  'De 
Ladies!    God  bless  dem  all!'" 

6.      DUNDREARY  IN  TH£  COUNTRY. 

1.  Diwectly  after  the  season  is  over  in  town,  I  always 
go  into  the  countwy.  To  tell  you  the  twuth,  I  hate 
the  countwy — it's  so  awful  dull — there's  such  a  howid 
noise  of  nothing  all  day;  and  there  is  nothing  to  see 
but  gween  twees,  and  cows,  and  buttercups,  and  wab- 
bits,  and  all  that  sort  of  cattle — I  don't  mean  exactly 
cattle  either,  but  animals,  you  know. 

2.  And  then  the  earwigs  get  into  your  hair-b^nishes 
if  you  leave  the  bed-woom  window  open;  and  if  you 
lie  down  on  the  gwass,  those  howid  gwasshoppers,  all 
legs,  play  at  leap-frog  over  your  nose,  which  is  how  i  bio 
torture,  and  makes  you  weady  to  faint,  you  know,  if  it 
is  not  too  far  to  call  for  assistance. 

3.  And  the  howid  sky  is  always  blue,  and  everything 
bores  you;  and  they  talk  about  the  sunshine,  as  if  there 
was  more  sunshine  in  the  countwy  than  in  the  city— 
which  is  abthurd,  you  know — only  the  countwy  sun  Lj 
hotter,  and  bwings  you  all  out  in  those  howid  fweckles, 


266  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

and  turns  you  to  a  t'witeful  bwicky  color,  which  the 
wetches  call  healthy. 

4.  As  if  a  healthy  man  must  lose  his  complexion, 
and  become  of  a  bwicky  wed  color — ha,  ha! — bwicky — 
howid — bwicky  wed  color — cawoty  wed  color! 

7.      THE  HEATHEN  CHINEE. 

Which  I  wish  to  remark — 

And  my  language  is  plain — 
That  for  waya  that  are  dark, 
And  for  tricks  that  are  vain, 
The  heathen  Chinee  is  peculiar, 
Which  the  same  I  would  rise  to  explain. 

Ah  Sin  was  his  namej 

And  I  shall  not  deny, 
In  regard  to  the  same, 
What  that  name  might  imply; 
But  his  smile  it  was  pensive  and  child-like, 
As  I  frequently  remai^ked  to  Bill  Nye. 

It  was  August  the  third. 

And  quite  soft  was  the  skies — 
Which  it  might  be  inferred 
That  Ah  Sin  was  likewise; 
Yet  he  played  it  that  day  upon  William 
And  me  in  a  way  I  despise. 

Which  we  had  a  small  game, 
And  Ah  Sin  took  a  hand; 
It  was  Euchre.     The  same 
He  did  not  understand; 
But  he  smiled  as  he  sat  by  the  table, 
With  a  smile  that  was  child-like  and  bland. 

Yet  the  cards  they  were  stocked 

In  a  way  that  I  grieve, 
And  my  feelings  were  shocked 

At  the  state  of  Nye's  sleeve, 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  267 

Which  was  stuffed  full  of  aces  and  bowers, 
And  the  same  with  intent  to  deceive. 

But  the  hands  that  were  played 

By  that  heathen  Chinee, 
And  the  points  tliat  he  made, 
Were  quite  frightful  to  see; 
Till  at  last  he  put  down  a  right  bower, 
Which  the  same  Nye  had  dealt  unto  me. 

Then  I  looked  up  at  Nye, 
And  he  gazed  upon  mej 
And  he  rose  with  a  sigh, 
And  said,  "Can  this  bet  . 
We  are  ruined  by  Chinese  cheap  labor" — 
And  he  went  for  that  heathen  Chinee. 

In  the  scene  that  ensued 
I  did  not  take  a  hand; 
But  the  floor  it  was  strewed, 
Like  the  leaves  on  the  strand. 
With  the  cards  that  Ah  Sin  had  been  hiding. 
In  the  game  he  "did  not  understand." 

In  his  sleeves,  which  were  long. 

He  had  twenty-four  packs — 
Which  was  coming  it  strong. 
Yet  I  state  but  the  facts; 
And  we  found  on  his  nails,  which  were  taper, 
What  is  frequent  in  tapers — tliat's  wax. 

Which  is  why  I  remark — 

And  ray  language  is  plain — 
That  for  ways  that  are  dark. 
And  for  tricks  that  are  vain, 
The  heathen  Chinee  is  peculiar, 
Which  the  same  I  am  tree  to  maintain. 

Bket  Uasib. 


268  SCUOOL    ET.OCUTION. 

8.  MARK  TWAIN  AND  THE  REPORTER. 

"Hoping  it '8  no  harm,  I've  come  to  interview  yon. 
I  am  connected  with  The  Daily  Thunderstorm." 

^'Come  to  what?" 

^'Intennew  yon.^ 

"Ah!   I  see.    Yes — ^yes.    Um!    Yes — yes." 

"Are  you  ready  to  begin?" 

"Ready." 

"How  old  are  yout" 

*' Nineteen  in  June." 

"  Indeed !  I  would  have  taken  you  to  be  thirty-five 
or  six.    Where  were  you  bomt" 

"In  Missouri." 

"When  did  yon  begin  to  write!" 

"In  1836. 

"Why,  huw  i-uiii(i  that  !'•.  il'  you  arc  only  nineteen 
nowt" 

"I  don't  know.     It  does  seem  curious,  somehow." 

"It  does  indeed.  Whom  do  yoii  consider  the  most 
remarkable  man  you  ever  metf" 

"Aaron  Burr." 

"But  you  never  could  have  met  Aaron  Bun*,  if  you 
are  only  nineteen  years — " 

"Now,  if  you  know  more  about  me  than  I  do,  what 
do  you  ask  me  for?" 

"Well,  it  was  only  a  suggestion;  nothing  more.  How 
did  you  happen  to  meet  Burr?" 

"Well,  I  happened  to  be  at  his  funeral  one  day;  and 
he  asked  me  to  make  less  noise,  and — " 

"  But,  good  heavens !  If  you  were  at  his  funeral,  he 
must  have  been  dead;  and,  if  he  was  dead,  how  could 
he  care  whether  you  made  a  noise  or  not?" 

"I  don't  know.  He  was  always  a  particular  kind  of 
a  man  that  way." 

"  Still,  I  do  n't  understand  it  at  all.  You  say  he  spoke 
to  you,  and  that  he  was  dead?"^ 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  269 

"I  didn^t  say  he  was  dead." 

"But  wasn't  he  deadt" 

"WeU,  some  said  he  was,  some  said  he  wasn'f 

"What  do  you  think?" 

"Oh,  it  was  none  of  my  business.  It  wasn't  any  of 
my  funeral." 

"Did  you —  However,  we  can  never  get  this  matter 
straight.  Let  me  ask  about  something  else.  What  was 
the  date  of  your  birth?" 

"  Monday,  ^October  31,  1693." 

"  Wliat !  Impossible  !  That  would  make  you  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  years  old.  How  do  you  account  for 
that?" 

"I  don't  account  for  it  at  all." 

"But  you  said  at  first  you  were  only  nineteen,  and 
now  you  make  yourself  out  to  be  one  hundred  and 
eighty.    It  is  an  awful  discrepancy." 

"Why,  have  you  noticed  that?  [Shaking  Jmnds.)  Many 
a  time  it  has  seemed  to  me  like  a  discrepancy;  but 
some  how  I  couldn't  make  up  my  mhxl  TTnw  «inick 
you  notice  a  thing!" 

"Thank  you  for  the  compliment,  us  lar  as  iL  goes. 
Had  you,  or  have  you,  any  brothers  or  sisters?" 

"  Eh !     I — I — I  think  so — yes — but  I  do  n't  remember." 

•'Well,  that  is  tho  most  extraordinarj'  statement-  I 
ever  heard." 

"Wliy,  what  makes  you  think  that?" 

"IIow  could  I  think  othenvise?  Why,  louk  ....\  . 
\V!i  .  is  this  a  picture  of  on  the  wall?  Isn't  that  a 
brotiier  of  yours?" 

"Oh,  yes,  yes,  yes!  X..\v  you  remind  me  of  it,  that 
tww  a  brother  of  mine.  That's  William,  Bill  we  called 
him.    Poor  old  Bill!" 

"Wliy,  is  he  dead,  then?" 

"Ah,  well,  I  suppose  so.  We  never  could  tell.  There 
was  a  great  mystery  about  it." 


270  SCHOOT.    T  T  or<T'TT^>v. 

"That  is  sad,  very  sad.     He  disappeared,  thent'^ 

"Well,  yes,  in  a  sort  of  general  way.  We  buried 
lum." 

^^  Buried  him !  Buried  him  without  knowing  whether 
he  was  dead  or  nott" 

"Oh,  no!    Not  that.    He  was  dead  enough." 

"Well,  I  confess  that  I  can't  understand  this.  If  you 
buried  him,  and  you  knew  he  was  dead — " 

"No,  no!    We  only  thought  he  was." 

"Oh,  I  see!    He  came  to  life  again T" 

"I  bet  he  didn't." 

"Well,  I  never  heard  anything  like  this.  Somebody 
was  dead.  Somebody  was  buried.  Now,  where  was  the 
mystery!" 

"Ah,  that's  just  it!  That's  it  exactly!  You  see  we 
were  twins — defunct  and  I;  and  we  got  mixed  in  the 
bath-tub  when  we  were  only  two  weeks  old,  and  one 
of  us  was  drowned.  But  we  did  n't  know  which.  Some 
think  it  was  Bill;  some  tliink  it  was  me." 

"Well,  that  15  remarkable.    WTiat  do  yoti  think!" 

"Goodness  knows!  I  would  give  whole  worlds  to 
know.  This  solemn,  this  awful  mystery  has  cast  a 
gloom  over  my  whole  life.  But  I  will  tell  you  a  secret 
now,  which  I  never  have  revealed  to  any  creature  before. 
One  of  us  had  a  peculiar  mark,  a  large  mole  on  the 
])aek  of  his  left  hand;  that  was  me.  That  child  was 
the  one  that  was  drowned.^ 

"Very  well,  then,  I  don't  see  that  there  is  any  mys- 
tery about  it,  after  all." 

"You  don't?  Well,  I  do.  Anyway,  I  don't  see  how 
they  could  ever  have  been  such  a  blundering  lot  as  to 
go  and  bury  the  wrong  child.  But,  'sh!  Don't  men- 
tion it  where  the  family  can  hear  of  it.  Heaven  knows 
they  have  heart-breaking  troubles  enough  without  adding 
this." 

"Well,  I  believe  I  have  got  material  enough  for  the 


SPHODl,     il.OCUTION. 


271 


present;  uud  1  am  \«  r\  much  obliged  to  you  for  the 
pains  you  have  taken.  But  I  was  a  good  deal  inter- 
ested in  that  account  of  Aaron  Bun-'s  funeral.  Would 
you  mind  telling  me  what  particular  circumstance  it 
was  that  made  you  think  Burr  was  such  a  remarkal^le 
man!'* 

"Oh,  it  was  a  mere  trifle!  Not  one  man  in  fifty 
would  have  noticed  it  at  all.  When  the  sermon  was 
over,  and  the  procession  all  ready  to  start  for  the 
cemetery,  and  the  body  all  arranged  nice  in  the  hearse, 
he  said  he  wanted  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  scenery; 
and  so  he  got  up^  an*^  >•"'''   KHth  the  driver." 

9.      PRINCE   HKNUY  AND  PALSTAPF. 

Falstaff.  I  call  thee  coward  /  I  '11  see  thee  Mnged  ere 
I  call  thee  coward:  but  I  would  give  a  thSusaiid  pdund 
I  could  run  as  fast  as  thou  canst.  You  are  straight 
enough  in  the  shSulderSy  you  care  not  who  sees  your 
Mek.  Call  you  that  backing  your  friends  f  A  pldgue 
upon  such  backing!  give  me  them  that  will  fdce  me. — 
Give  me  a  cup  of  sack:  I  am  a  rogue,  if  I  have  drunk 
to-day. 

P.  Henry.  O  villain!  thy  lips  are  scarce  wiped  since 
thou  drank'st  last. 

Fal.  All's  one  for  that.  A  pldgue  on  all  cowards, 
still  say  I! 

P.  Henry,    What's  the  mdtterf 

Fal  What^s  the  mdtterf  here  be  four  of  n<  hnve 
taken  a  thousand  pound  this  morning. 

P.  Henry,    Where  is  it,  Jack!  where  is  it? 

Fal.  Where  f«  it!  taken  from  us,  it  is;  a  hiindre4l 
upon  poor  f&ur  of  us. 

P.  Henry.    What!  a  hundred,  mdnt 

Fal,  I  am  a  rogue,  if  I  were  not  at  half-sword  with 
a  dozen  of  them,  for  two  hours  together.  I  have  'scaped 
by    miracle.     I    am    eight    times    thrust    through    the 


?72  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

doublet;  four,  througli  the  hose;  my  buckler  cut  tlirough 
and  through;  my  sword  hacked  like  a  hand-saw.  I 
never  dealt  better  since  I  was  a  man;  all  would  not 
tlo.  A  plague  of  all  cowards !  Let  them  speak ;  if  they 
speak  more  or  less  than  truth,  thoy  are  villaius  and  the 
sons  of  darkness. 

P.  Henry.     Sp^ak,  sirs;   how  uuu  it .' 

Qadshill,    We  four,  set  upon  some  dozen — 

Fal.    Sixteeiij  at  least,  my  lord. 

Gad.    And  boimd  them. 

Peto.    No,  no,  they  were  not  bound. 

Fal.  You  rogue,  they  were  bound,  every  man  of 
them;  or  I  am  a  Jew,  else — an  Ebrew  Jew. 

Gad.  As  we  were  sharing,  some  six  or  seven  fresh 
men  set  upon  us — 

Fal.  And  unbound  the  rest;  and  tli.ii  come  in  the 
other. 

P.  Hmry.    What !  fought  ye  with  them  all  f 

Fal.  All!  I  know  not  what  ye  call  (til;  but  if  I 
fought  not  with  flffy  of  them,  I  am  a  bunch  of  radish: 
if  there  were  not  two  or  three  and  fifty  upon  poor  old 
Jack,  then  I  am  no  two-legged  creature. 

Foins.  Pray  heaven,  you  have  not  murdered  some  of 
them. 

Fal.  Nay,  that's  past  pra^dng  for;  for  I  have  pep- 
pered two  of  them;  two  I  am  sure  I  have  paid;  two 
rogues  in  buckram  suits.  I  tell  thee  what,  Hal,  if  I 
teU  thee  a  lie,  spit  in  my  face,  and  call  me  a  horse. 
Four  rogues  in  buckram  let  drive  at  me — 

P.  Henry.  What!  fourf  Thou  saidst  but  two  even 
now. 

Fal.    Four,  Hal;   I  told  the  four. 

Foins.     Ay,  ay,  he  said  four. 

Fal.  These  four  came  all  afront,  and  mainly  thrust 
at  me.  I  made  no  more  ado,  but  took  all  their  seven 
points  on  my  tai^get  thus. 


SCITOOT.     KT.rxTTION".  273 

p.  Hrv'-  V  /,  .  ^^.,^.  Ml-].  ^^  ^vQ  but/r5wr,  cvcn 
now. 

Fal,     In  bueki'aiu? 

P    TTfury.    Ay,  four  in  buckram  suits. 

N^re>*,   by  these  hilts,  or  I   am  a  villain  else. 
Dost  tliou  hl?ar  me,  Hal? 

P.  Henry.    Ay,  and  wi<frA;  thee  too,  Jack. 

Fal.  Do  so,  for  it  is  worth  listening  to.  These  nine 
in  buckram  that  I  told  thee  of — 

/'.  ITetn'!/.    So,  two  more  already. 

Fal.  Tlieir  points  being  broken, — ^began  to  give  me 
ground;  but  I  followed  me  close,  came  in  foot  and 
hand,  and  with  a  thought,  seven  of  the  eleven  I  paid. 

P.  Henry.  O  mdnstrous !  eleven  buckram  men  grown 
out  of  tw6! 

Fal.  But,  as  iU  luck  would  have  it,  three  misbegot- 
ten knaves,  in  Kendal  green,  came  at  my  back,  and  let 
drive  at  me; — for  it  was  so  dark,  Hal,  that  thou  couldst 
not  see  thy  hand. 

P.  Henry.  These  lies  are  like  the  father  that  begets 
them;  gross  as  a  mountain,  open,  palpable.  Why,  thou 
knotty-pated  fool;   thou  greasy  tallow-tub. 

Fal.  What,  art  thou  mddt  art  thou  madt  is  not  the 
truth  the  fnWi  f 

P.  Henry.  WTiy,  how  coiUdst  thou  know  these  men 
in  Kendtil  green,  when  it  was  so  dark  thou  couldst  not 
see  thy  hand!  Come,  tell  us  yoiu*  reason;  what  sayest 
lliou  t«)  thisf    Come,  your  reason^  Jack,  your  reason. 

WTiat,  upon  compulsion  t    N6,    Were  I  at  the 

!  ;  !  ulo,  or  all  tlio  racks  in  the  world,  I  would  not 
t<  11  y<»ii  on  compulsion.  Give  you  a  reason  upon  com- 
pulsion! If  reasons  were  as  plenty  as  IMckherrieSy  I 
would  give  no  man  a  reason  upon  compulsion. 

P.  Henry.  I H  be  no  longer  guilty  of  this  sin.  This 
sanguine  coward,  this  bed-presser,  this  horse-back  breaker, 
this  huge  hill  of  flesh — 


274  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Fal.  Aw&y,  you  starveling,  you  §el-skin,  you  dned 
n^aVs-tonguey  you  sidck-iish. !  O  for  breath  to  utt^r  what 
is  like  thee!  you  tdiloi^s  yard,  you  sMathj  you  bow-csLse, 
you  vile  standing  tuck — 

Shakkspkake. 

Hints  about  Additional  Selections. 

Dialogues,  dialect  pieces,  and  humorous  selections  are 
useful  in  school  for  the  purpose  of  breaking  up  the 
tendency  to  stiffness,  formality,  and  monotony  in  read- 
ing. There  are  times  when  the  ripple  of  laughter  is 
music  in  the  school-room,  and  when  the  sunlight  of 
humor  is  needed  to  dispel  the  mists  of  a  gloomy  day. 
There  seems  to  be  no  good  reason  why  the  flashes  of 
wit  and  humor  that  delight  a  whole  nation  should  be 
altogether  shut  out  from  the  school-room,  because  they 
do  not  form  a  part  of  "  classic  literature."  Though  such 
humorous  and  dialect  selections  might  not  seem  appro- 
priate for  a  driU-book  like  this  volume,  the  wise  and 
cheerful  teacher  will  make  good  use  of  them,  taking 
care,  of  course,  to  exclude  objectionable  selections. 
Teachers  wUl  do  well  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  taste 
of  boys  and  girls  from  fourteen  to  eighteen  years  of 
age  is  not  so  critical  as  that  of  men  and  women  of 
middle  age. 

These  extracts  should  be  read  at  sight y  the  book  being 
passed  from  hand  to  hand,  and  one  book  serving  for 
the  whole  class. 

Many  excellent  selections  can  be  found  in  such  books 
as  Lowell's  "Biglow  Papers,"  Dickens^s  "Pickwick  Pa- 
pers," Bret  Harte-s  "Poems,"  Saxe's  "Poems,"  Hood's 
"Poems,"  Mark  Twain's  books,  Monroe's  "Humorous 
Readings,"  Garrett's  "Speaker's  Garland,"  Shoemaker's 
"Elocutionist's  Annual,"  and  many  other  books  of 
"  Selections." 


PART   III 


PART   III. 

MISCELLANEOUS  SELECTIONS. 


SECTION  I. 
PROSE    SELECTIONS. 

1.    ELOCUTIONAY  TRAINING. 

1.  Elocutionary  training  should  be  begun  in  early 
life,  because  then  the  vocal  organs  are  flexible.  It  is  a 
serious  defect  in  our  school  methods  of  instruction,  that 
the  expressive  faculties,  comprising  feeling,  affection, 
emotion,  passion,  imagination,  fancy,  association,  imita- 
tion, and  description,  are  called  so  little  into  action. 
Elocution,  when  properly  taught,  calls  into  active  exer- 
cise the  expressive  faculties,  and  tends  to  odncntc  tho 
child  as  a  social  being. 

2.  In  most  ungraded  schools  in  the  country,  and  in 
many  city  schools,  an  hour  of  the  closing  tiftemoon  of 
each  week  may  be  usefully  devoted  to  declamation,  dia- 
logue, and  select  readings.  It  is  not  advisable  to  compel 
every  child  in  school  to  take  part  in  these  exercises,  for 
there  are  some  who  never  can  become  good  readers,  and 
others  who  are  so  awkward  and  diffident  that  it  is  cruel 
to  force  them  upon  the  school  stage  with  a  declamation. 

3.  Appropriate  selections  should  at  first  be  made  by 

C«n) 


278  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION'. 

the  teacher;  for  the  uncultivated  tasie  of  pupils  will 
lead  them  to  choose  pieces  altogether  too  difficult,  oi 
utterly  worthless  when  committed  to  memory.  Select 
at  times,  for  the  boys,  short  prose  declamations,  whicli, 
when  learned,  remain  in  the  memory  as  models  of  pur. 
prose  and  patriotic  feeling.  If  they  learn  a  poem,  let 
it  not  be  one  made  up  of  doggerel  rhymes,  or  of  pain- 
fid  attempts  at  a  low  order  of  wit. 

4.  A  careful  selection  of  pieces  will  be  the  surest 
safeguard  against  the  ranting,  tearing,  overstrained,  th( 
atrical  style  of  florid  oratory  which  so  painfidly  mar 
many  school  exhibitions.  The  teacher  can  take  odd 
moments  at  the  intermission,  or  recess,  or  before  and 
after  school,  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  rehearsals,  and 
giving  special  instructions. 

5.  Teachers  should  instruct  pupils  in  the  elements  (;i 
gesture.  Grestures  spring  naturally  from  the  close  sym- 
pathy of  mind  and  body.  A  look  of  the  eye,  an 
expression  of  the  countenance,  a  movement  of  the  hand, 
often  convey  more  than  words  can  express.  The  prin- 
ciples of  gesture  may  be  easily  learned  from  any  one  of 
several  excellent  works  on  elocution. 

6.  The  reading  and  recitation  of  poetry  by  girls  is  an 
indispensable  part  of  the  education  of  woman,  as  one 
of  the  most  efficient  modes  of  discipline  for  the  taste 
and  imagination.  Many  of  the  most  exquisite  passages 
of  the  poets  can  never  be  fully  appreciated  until  repeated 
by  the  voice  of  woman. 

1.  It  requires  no  close  observer  to  perceive  the  effects 
of  poetry  on  the  youthful  mind.  Childhood  delights  in 
the  melody  of  verse,  and  is  pleased  with  its  flowing 
harmony  of  sound.  In  poetry  are  embodied  some  of 
the  most  beautiful  lessons  of  morality;  and  they  ar(^ 
presented  in  a  manner  which  arrests  the  attention  and 
impresses  the  character.  "^Tiat  teacher  has  not  seen  th 
dull  eye  kindle,  the  vacant  countenance  take  expression, 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  279 

the  face  glow  with  emotion,  and  the  whole  boy  become 
lost  ill  the  sentiment  of  his  declamation! 

8.  Introduce  elocution  into  school  to  cultivate  a  taste 
for  reading,  to  exercise  and  strengthen  memory,  to 
awaken  feeling,  to  excite  imagination,  and  to  tmin  those 
who  are  to  enter  the  professions,  to  become  graceful 
and  pleasing  speakers.  Introduce  it  as  a  relief  from 
study,  a  pleasing  recreation,  and  a  source  of  intellectual 
enjoyment.  Introduce  it  as  a  part  of  the  aesthetic  edu- 
cation so  peculiarly  appropriate  for  woman.  Make  it 
as  a  part  of  the  education  of  man  as  an  expressive  being. 

2.    GOOD  READING. 

1.  There  is  6ne  accomplishment,  in  particular,  which  \^^ 
would  earnestly  recommhid  to  you.  Cultivate  ^IMwm^^/ 
ously  the  ability  to  r^ad  well.  I  stop  to  particularize 
this,  because  it  is  a  thing  so  very  much  iieglicted,  and 
because  it  is  such  an  elegant  and  channing  accomplish' 
ment.  Where  one  i)erson  is  really  interested  by  musicy 
ttchity  are  pleased  by  good  r^<iding.    Where  one  person 

is  capable  of  becoming  a  skillful  musician,  twhity  may 
become  good  readers.  Where  there  is  one  occasion  suit- 
able for  the  exercise  of  musical  talent,  there  are  twenty 
for  that  of  godd  reading, 

2.  The  cidturo  of  the  voice  necessary  for  reading  weU, 
gives  a  delightful  charm  to  the  same  voice  in  conversd- 
Hon.  Good  reading  is  the  naturaJ  exponent  and  vehicle 
of  dll  good  things.  It. seems  to  bring  dead  autlwrs  to 
Ikfe  again,  and  makes  us  sit  down  familiarly  with  the 
grM  and  g6odj>t  aj^^jges. 

3.  What  d/JaScSOltfn  there  is  in  reaUy  good  reading! 
What  a  pbwer  it  Hres  one!  In  the  hdspital,  in  the 
chamber  of  the  J/ir///  /.  m  the  nursery ^  in  the  dotnistk 
and  in  the  social  circle,  iunong  chosen  friends  and  cam- 
pdnionSf  how  it  enables  you  to  minister  to  the  amitse- 


280  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

mentf  the  comfort j  tlu^  pleasure  of  dear  ones  as  no  Sther 
vt  or  accomplishment   can.     No  instrument  of   man-s 
(lev) sing  can  reach  the  hiart  as  does  that  most  wonder- 
ful instrument,  the  human  voice. 

4.  If  you  would  double  the  value  of  all  your  dtlur 
acquisitiims,  if  you  would  mid  immeasurably  to  your 
'fcn  enjoyment  and  to  your  power  Qfppinotingf  the 
njoyment  of  others^  cultivate,  with  inct'ssanfc'are,  this 
ilirine  gift.  No  music  below  the  sk)es  is  equal  to  that 
of  pure,  silvery /?;>'''"/'  ^'•'mti  the  lir<^  "♦^  •!  man  or  woman 
nf  high  cMture.  johk  s.  Habt. 

3.    THE  IVnJSIC  OF  THE  HUMAN  VOICE. 

1.  Willis,  in  his  essay  on  "un^^Titten  music,"  has  phiced 
the  appropriate  sound  of  the  female  voice  among  the 
most  beautiful  of  its  forms  j  and  there  is,  unquestiona- 
bly, a  fine  analogy  l>etween  the  sound  of  the  running 
brook,  the  note  of  the  wood-bird,  the  voice  of  a  happy 
child,  the  low  breathing  of  a  flute,  and  the  clear,  soft 
tone  of  a  woman's  voice,  when  it  utters  the  natural 
music  of  home — the  accents  of  gentleness  and  love. 

2.  To  a  well-tuned  ear,  there  is  a  rich,  deep  melody 
in  the  distinctive  bass  of  the  male  voice,  in  its  subdued 
tones.  But  the  key-note  of  poetry  seems  to  have  been 
lent  to  woman.  On  the  ear  of  infancy  a]id  cliilJUood, 
her  voice  was  meant  to  fall  as  a  winning^^Sm9rtoaIl 
t}ie.<^her  melodies   of   nature;    the   human   nerves  are 

^^attuiien,  accordingly,  to  the  breath  of  her  voice;  and, 
through  life,  the  chords  of  the  heart  respond  most 
readily  to  her  touch. 

3.  Yet  how  often  is  this  result  impeded  by  the  pro- 
cesses of  artificial  culture;  by  the  over-excitement  of 
mind  and  nerve,  attending  excessive  application;  by  that 
unAvise  neglect  of  health  and  healthful  action,  which 
dims  the  eye  and  deadens  the  ear  to  beauty,  and  robs 


sell  *•<•!.     i:i..  n    ITIUN.  281 

life  of  the  joyous  anu  >\iii|)aiiMui*.  spirit  which  is  native 
to  chihlliood;  and  which,  otlierwise,  would  ever  be  gush- 
ing forth  in  notes  of  gladness  and  endearment,  the 
physical  not  1«'«  i^i*>n  the  moral  charm  of  hnmnn 
utterance ! 

4.  Tliere  arc  buuutiliU.  exceptions,  undoubtedly,  to  this 
general  fact  of  uiigjiinly  habit.  But  the  gi'ound  of  just 
complaint  is,  that  there  is  no  provision  made  in  our 
>>'stems  of  educatig^  for  the  cultivation  of  one  of 
woman's  peciUiar  eMowments — an  attractive  voice.  Our 
uirls  do  not  come  home  to  us,  after  their  period  of 
school  life,  qualified  to  read  witli  effect  in  their  o\Nm 
language.  There  is  wanting  in  their  voices  that  adap- 
t  at  ion  of  tone  to  feeling,  which  is  the  music  of  the 
hv'.wt  in  reading;  there  is  wanting  that  clear,  impressive 
style  which  belongs  to  the  utterance  of  cultivated  taste 
and  judgment,  and  which  enhances  every  sentiment  by 
appropriate  emphasis  and  pause;  there  is  even  a  want 
of  that  distinct  articulation  which  tilone  can  make  sound 
the  intelligible  medium  of  thought.       v      " "-.nO 

4.    THE   ART   OF   READING. 

1.  The  art  of  reading  well  is  an  accomplishment  that 
all  desire  to  possess,  many  think  they  have  ah-eady, 
and  that  a  few  set  about  to  acquire.  These,  belie\ing 
their  power  is  altogetlier  in  their  genius,  are,  after  a 
tew  lessons  from  an  elocutionist,  disappointed  at  not 
i)ecoraing  themselves  at  once  masters  of  the  art;  and 
iMi  the  restless  vanity  of  their  belief,  abandon  the 
i>'  for  some  new  subject  of  tritd  and  failure.  Such 
I  i-rs  of  inflrmity  result  in  part  from  the  wavering 
•  !i  iiacter  of  tlie  human  tribe;  but  they  chiefly  arise 
ii 'Ml  defects  in  the  usual  course  of  instruction. 

to  some  of  our  colleges  and  universities,  and 
liow  the  art  of  sDenkintr   is   not  taucrht  there. 


282  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

See  a  boy  of  but  fifteen  yeai*s,  with  no  want  of  youtli 
ful   diffidence,   and    not   without    a    craving    desire    t 
learn,  sent  upon  a  stage,  pale  and  choking  with  appr< 
hension;    being   forced    into    an    attempt    to    do    that, 
without  instruction,  which  he  came  purposely  to  learn; 
and    furnishing   amusement    to   his    classmates,    by    a 
pardonable  awkwardness,  that  should  be  punished,  in 
the  jxjrson  of  his  pretending  but  neglectful  preceptor, 
with  little  less  than  scourging. 

3.  Then  visit  a  conserv^atorio  ht  music;  observe  tlur 
the  elementary  outset,  the  orderly  task,  the  master! 
discipline,  the  unwearied  superintendence,  and  the  in- 
cessant toil  to  reach  the  utmost  accomplishment  in  the 
Singing- Voice ;  and  afterwards  do  not  be  surprised  that 
the  pulpit,  the  senate,  the  bar,  and  the  chair  of  medical 
professorship,  are  filled  with  such  abominable  drawlers. 
mouthers,  mumblers,  clutterers,  squeakers,  chanters,  and 
mongers  in  monotony;  nor  that  the  Schools  of  Singing 
are  coi;istantly  sending  abroad  those  great  instances  of 
vocal  wonder  who  triumph  along  the  crowded  resort 
of  the  world;  who  contribute  to  the  halls  of  fashion 
and  wealth  their  most  refined  source  of  gratification; 
who  sometimes  quell  the  pride  of  rank  by  a  momentary 
sensation  of  envj';  and  who  draw  forth  the  admiration 
and  receive  the  crowning  applause  of  the  piince  and  sage. 

4.  The  high  accomplishments  in  elocution  are  sup- 
posed to  be  universally  the  unacquu'ed  gifts  of  genius, 
and  to  consist  of  powers  and  gi'aces  beyond  the  reach 
of  art.  So  seem  the  plainest  services  of  arithmetic  to 
a  savage;  and  so,  to  the  slave,  seem  all  the  ways  of 
music  which  modem  art  has  so  accurately  penned,  as 
to  time,  and  tune,  and  momentary  gi*ace.  Ignorance 
knows  not  what  has  been  done;  indolence  thinks  nothing 
can  be  done;  and  both  uniting,  borrow  from  the^abused 
eloquence  of  poetry  an  aphorism  to  justify  stfpiiieness 
of  inquiry.  de.  eush. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  283 

5.     OX    LEARNING    BY   HEART. 

1.  Till  he  has  fairly  tried  it,  I  suspect  a  reader  does 
not  know  how  much  he  would  gain  from  committing  to 
memory  passages  of  real  excellence  j  precisely  because 
he  does  not  know  how  much  he  overlooks  when  merely 
reading.  Learn  one  true  poem  by  heart,  and  see  if 
you  do  not  find  it  so.  Beauty  after  beauty  will  reveal 
itself,  in  chosen  phrase,  or  happy  music,  or  noble  sug- 
gestion, otherwise  undreamed  of.  It  is  like  looking  at 
one  of  Nature's  wonders  through  a  microscope. 

2.  Again:  how  much  in  such  a  poem  that  you  really 
did  feel  admirable  and  lovely  on  a  first  reading,  passes 
away,  if  you  do  not  give  it  a  further  and  much  better 
reading! — passes  away  utterly,  like  a  sweet  sound,  or 
an  image  on  the  lake,  which  the  first  breath  of  wind 
dispels.  If  you  coidd  only  fix  that  image,  as  the  pho- 
tographers do  theirs,  so  beautifully,  so  perfectly!  And 
you  can  do  so!  Learn  it  by  heart,  and  it  is  yours  for 
ever ! 

'..  I  have  said,  a  ti'ue  poemj  for  naturally  men  wiU 
choose  to  learn  poetry — from  the  beginning  of  time  they 
have  done  so.  To  immortal  verse  the  memory  gives  a 
willing,  a  joyous,  and  a  lasting  home.  Some  prose, 
however,  is  poetical,  is  poetiy,  and  altogether  worthy 
to  be  learned  by  heart;  and  the  learning  is  not  so  verj' 
difficidt.  It  is  not  difficult  or  toilsome  to  learn  that 
which  pleases  us;  and  the  labor,  once  given,  is  forgot- 
ten, while  the  result  remains. 

4.  Poems,  and  noble  extracts,  whether  of  verse  or  of 
prose,  once  so  reduced  into  possession  and  rendered 
truly  our  own,  may  be  to  us  a  daily  pleasure; — better 
far  than  a  whole  libniry  i/wused.  They  may  come  to  us 
in  our  dull  moments,  to  refresh  us  as  with  spring  flowers; 
in  our  selfish  musings,  to  win  us  by  pure  delight  from 
the  tjTanny  of  foolish  castle-building,  self-gratulations, 


284  i.M>L    ELOCUTION. 

auu  jiiran  aiiAniu^.  They  may  be  with  us  in  the  work- 
shop, in  the  crowded  street,  by  the  fireside;  sometimes, 
perhaps,  on  pleasant  hill-sides,  or  by  sounding  shores; — 
noble  friends  and  companions — our  own!  never  iiitni- 
sive,  ever  at  hand,  coming  at  our  call. 

5.  For  those,  in  particular,  whose  leisure  time  is  short. 
I  believe  thei*e  could  not  be  a  better  expenditure  oi 
time  than  deliberately  giving  an  occasional  hour — it 
requii*es  no  more — ^to  committing  to  memory  chosen 
passages  from  great  authors.  If  the  mind  were  thus 
daily  nourished  with  a  few  choice  words  of  the  best 
English  poets  and  \^Titers;  if  the  habit  of  learning  b\ 
heart  were  to  become  so  general,  that,  as  a  matter  ul 
course,  any  person  presimiing  to  be  educated  might  be 
expected  to  be  equipped  with  a  few  good  pieces, — I  be- 
lieve that  it  would  lead,  much  more  than  the  mere 
sound  of  it  suggests,  to  the  diffusion  of  the  best  kind 
of  literatim*  and  to  the  right  appreciation  of  it;  and 
that  men  would  not  IniKr  rest  satisfied  with  knowing  a 
few  stock  pieces. 

6.  The  only  objection  1  can  conceive  to  what  I  have 
been  Siiying  is,  that  a  relish  for  higher  litei'ature  may 
be  said  to  be  the  result  of  cultivation,  and  to  belong 
only  to  the  few.  But  I  do  not  admit  that  even  th«' 
higher  literature  must  belong  only  to  the  few.  Poetry 
is,  in  the  main,  essentially  catholic — addressed  to  all 
men;  and  though  some  poetry  requii'es  knowledge  and 
culture,  much,  and  that  the  noblest,  needs  only  natural 
feeling,  and  common  experience.  Such  poetry,  taken  in 
moderation,  followed  with  genuine  good-will,  shared  in 
common,  will  be  intelligible  and  delightful  to  most  men 
who  take  the  ti-ouble  to  be  students  at  all,  and  ever 
more  and  more  so. 

7.  Perhaps,  also,  there  may  be  a  fragment  of  truth  in 
what  Charles  Lamb  has  said — that  any  spouting  "withers 
and  l>lows  upon  a  fine  passage;"  that  there  is  no  enjoy 


SCHO':.      i^'xTTTox.  285 

in^  it  after  it  has  been  "pawi-a  uimmil  l>y  declamatory 
boys  and  men."  But  snrely  there  is  a  reasonable  habit 
of  recitation  as  well  as  an  unreasonable  one;  there  is 
no  need  of  declamatory  pawing.  To  abandon  all  recita- 
tion, is  to  give  up  a  custom  which  has  unquestionably 
given  delight  and  instruction  to  all  the  i*aces  of  man- 
kind. If  our  faces  are  set  against  vain  display,  and  set 
towards  rational  enjoyment  of  one  another,  we  need  not 
fear  that  our  social  evenings  will  be  maired  by  an  o<«- 
<ai!iional  recitation.  And,  moreover,  it  is  not  for  recit- 
ing's  sake  that  I  chiefly  recommend  this  most  faithful 
lorm  of  reading — learning  by  heart. 

8.  I  come  back,  therefore,  to  this,  that  learning  by 
lieart  is  a  good  thing,  and  that  it  is  neglected  among  us. 
Wliy  is  it  neglected?  Partly  because  of  our  indolence; 
but  partly,  I  believe,  because  we  do  not  sufficiently  con- 
sider that  it  is  a  good  thing,  and  needs  to  be  ttiken  in 
I  land.  We  need  to  be  reminded  of  it.  I  here  remind 
you.  Like  a  town-crier,  ringing  my  beU,  I  would  say 
to  you,  "Oyez,  oycz!  Lost,  stolen,  or  strayed,  a  good 
ancient  pnw^tice — the  good  ancient  practice  of  learning 
by  heart.    Every  finder  shall  be  handsomely  rewarded." 

9.  If  you  ask,  "What  shaU  I  learn?"  the  answer  is, 
do  as  you  do  with  tunes — ^begin  with  what  you  sincerely 
like  best,  what  you  would  most  wish  to  remember,  what 
you  would  most  enjoy  saying  to  yourself  or  repeating 
to  another.  You  will  soon  find  the  list  inexhaustible. 
Then  "keeping  up"  is  easy.  Ever>'  one  has  spare  ten 
minutes:  one  of  the  problems  of  life  is  how  to  employ 
them  usefully.  You  may  well  spend  some  in  looking 
after  and  seciu'ing  this  good  property  you  have  won. 

I.lgHHSOTOK. 


286  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

6.    SCHOOL  LIBRARIES. 

1.  The  influence  of  well-selected  books  in  a  school  is 
second  only  to  that  of  the  teacher;  and  in  many  in- 
stances the  information,  self-gleaned  by  the  pupils,  is 
the  most  valuable  part  of  a  common-school  education. 

2.  A  teacher  may  fail  in  the  discharge  of  duty;  but 
the  golden  grains  of  thought  gleaned  from  good  books 
will  spring  up  in  the  youthful  minds  and  yield  their 
fruit,  just  as  certainly  as  the  fertile  soil  of  oiu*  beauti- 
ful valloys  rewards  the  toil  of  the  husbandman  ^vith  a 
bountiful  harvest. 

3.  The  object  and  aim  of  the  public  school  should  be 
to  give  children  a  thirst  for  information,  a  taste  for 
reading;  to  make  them  alive  to  knowledge;  to  set  them 
out  on  the  path  of  self-education  through  life.  Why 
teach  them  to  read  at  all,  if  books  be  not  afterwards 
fiu'iiished  for  tliem  to  read? 

4.  Not  many  years  ago,  in  one  of  the  obscure  towns 
of  Massachusetts,  there  lived  a  farmer^s  boy  who  "went 
to  a  common  school"  in  the  winter,  and  worked  on  the 
farm  in  simimer.  The  books  of  a  little  town  library 
feU  into  his  hands;  he  devoured  them,  and  hungered 
for  more.  He  grew  to  be  a  man,  and  was  acknowledged 
by  aU  to  be  the  most  distinguished  American  educator 
of  his  time. 

5. .Every  public  school  in  our  countiy  is  a  debtor  to 
Horace  Mann.  He  thus  graphically  sums  up  the  advan- 
tage of  a  school  library:  "Now  no  one  thing  will 
contribute  more  to  intelligent  reading  in  our  schools 
than  a  well-selected  library;  and,  through  intelligence, 
the  hbrarj^  Avill  also  contribute  to  rhetorical  ease,  grace, 
and  expressiveness.  "Wake  up  a  child  to  a  consciousness 
of  power  and  beauty,  and  you  might  as  easily  confine 
Hercules  to  a  distaff,  or  bind  Apollo  to  a  tread-mill,  as 
to  confine  his  spirit  within  the  mechanical  round  of  a 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  287 

'  hool-room  where  such  mechanism  still  exists.     Let  a 
ild  read  and  understand  such  stories  as  the  friendship 
I    Damon  and  Pythias,  the  integrity  of  Aristides,  the 
iulelity  of  Reguhis,  the  purity  of  Washington,  the  invinci- 
ble perseverance  of  Franklin,  and  he  will  think  differently 
and  act  differently  all  the  days  of  his  remaining  life. 

6.  "Let  boys  or  girls  of  sixteen  years  of  age  read  an 
intelligible  and  popular  ti*eatise  on  astronomy  and  geol- 
ogy, and  from  that  day  new  heavens  will  bend  over  their 
heads,  and  a  new  earth  wiU  spread  out  beneath  their  feet. 
A  mind  accustomed  to  go  rejoicing  over  the  splendid 
regions  of  the  material  universe,  or  to  luxuriate  in  the 
her  worlds  of  thought,  can  never  afterwards  read  like 
wooden  machine — a  thing  of  cranks  and  pipes — ^to  say 
nothing  of  the  pleasures  and  the  utihty  it  will  realize." 


7.     POEMS. 

1.  Now  I  tell  you  a  poem  must  be  kept  and  usedj 
like  a  meerschaiun  or  a  violin.  A  poem  is  just  as 
porous  as  the  meerschaum — the  more  porous  it  is,  the 
better.  I  mean  jto  gay  that  a  genuine  poem  is  capable 
of  absorbing  im  it^Pmiite^amount  of  the  essence  of  our 
own  humanity — its  tenderness,  its  heroism,  its  regrets, 

-  aspirations — so  as  to  be  gradually  stained  tlirough 
with  a  divine  secondary  color  derived  from  ourselves. 
So,  you  see,  it  must  take  time  to  bring  the  sentiment 
of  a  poem  into  hannony  with  our  nature  by  stainiiig 
ourselves  through  every  tliougtt  and  image  onr  being 
can  penetrate.  i 

2.  Then,  again,  as  to  the  mere  music  of  a  new  poem; 
why,  who  can  expect  anything  more  from  that  than 
from  the  music  of  a  violin  fresh  from  the  maker's 
hands  f  Now  you  know  very  well  that  there  are  no 
lees  than  fifty-eight  different  pieces  in  a  violin.    These 


288  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

pieces  are  strangers  to  each  other,  and  it  takes  a  cen- 
tury, more  or  less,  to  make  them  thoroughly  acquaintod. 
At  last  they  learn  to  vibrate  in  harmony,  and  the  in- 
strument becomes  an  organic  whole,  as  it  were  a  great 
seed  capsuli^,  which  liad  grown  from  a  garden-}>ed  in 
Cremona,  or  elsewhere.  Besides,  the  wood  is  juicy  and 
full  of  sap  fo^  fifty  years  or  so,  but  at  the  end  of  fifty 
or  a  hundredjjiQre  gets  tolerably, dry  and  comparatively 
resonant,  {^i  *■  ,  -  - ,  -?  ^^^  ^/r^j 

"37  Do  n't  you  see  /that'  all  this  is  just  as  true  of  a 
poemf  Counting  each  word  a.s  a  piece,  there  are  more 
pieces  in  an  average  copy  of  verses  than  in  a  violiT» 
The  poet  has  forced  all  these  words  together,  and  ft» 
ened  them,  and  they  don't  understand  it  at  first.vBut 
let  the  poem  be  repeatcnl  aloud,  and  munnured  over  in 
the  mind's  muffled  whisper  often  enough,  and  at  length 
the  parts  l>ecome  knit  together  in  such  absolute  soli- 
darity that  you  coiUd  not  change  a  syllable  without  the 
whole  world's  ciying  out  against  you  for  meddling  with 
the  harmonious  fabric.  holmbs. 


8.    SCROOGE    AND    MARLEY. 

1.  Marley  was  dead,  to  begin  with.  There  is  no  donl>t 
whatever  about  that.  The  register  of  his  burial  was 
signed  by  the  clergyman,  the  clerk,  the  undertaker,  and 
the  chief  mourner.  Scrooge  signed  it.  And  Scrooge's 
name  was  good  upon  'Change,  for  an^i:hing  he  chose  to 
put  his  hand  to.  Old  Marley  was  as /dead  as  a  door- 
nail. \ 

2.  Mind!  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  know,  of  my 
own  knowledge,  what  there  is  particularly  dead  about 
a  door-nail.  I  might  have  been  inclined  myseK,  to 
regard  a  coffin-nail  as  the  deadest  piece  of  ironmongery 
in  tJbe   trade.     But  the  ^visdom   of  our  ancestors  is  in 


crnooT.    KT.orUTION.  289 

the  simile;  and  my  uiiiiallowed  hands  shall  not  disturb 
it,  or  the  countrj^'s  done  for.  You  will  therefore  per- 
mit me  to  repeat,  emphatically,  that  Marley  was  as  dead 
•'*^  a  door-nail. 

5.  Scrodge  knew  he  was  dead?  Of  course  he  did. 
How  could  it  be  otherwise?  Scrooge  and  he  were 
i»artners  for  I  don't  know  how  many  years.  Scrooge 
as  his  sole  executor,  his  sole  administrator,  his  sole 
i<sign,  his  sole  residuary  legatee,  his  sole  friend,  and 
>«>le  mourner.  And  even  Scrooge  was  not  so  di'ead- 
fully  cut  up  by  the  sad  event,  but  that  he  was  an  ex- 
cellent man  of  business  on  the  very  day  of  the  funeral, 
and  solemnized  it  with  an  undoubted  bargain. 

4.  iBcrooge  never  painted  out  old  Marley's  name. 
TluTt'"  it   stood,  years  afterwards,  above   the   warehouse 

r:  Scrooge  and  Marley.  The  firm  was  known  as 
.Scrooge  and  Marley.  Sometimes  people  new  to  the 
business  called  Scrooge,  Scrooge,  and  sometimes  Marley, 
but  he  answered  to  both  names.  It  was  all  the  same 
to  him. 

5.  Oh!-  but  he  was  a  tight-fisted  hand  at  the  grind- 
stone, Scrooge !  a  squeezing,  \\Tenching,  gi-asping,  scrap- 
ing, clutching,  covetous   old   sinner!      Hard  and   sharp 

flint  from  which  no  steel  had  ever  struck  out  gen- 
erous fire;  secret,  and  self-contained,  and  solitary  as  an 
oyster.     The   cold   ^-ithin    him   froze   his   old   features, 

]>ped  his  pointed  nose,  shriveled  liis  cheek,  stiffened 
..i8  gait;  made  his  eyes  red,  his  thin  lips  blue;  and 
spoke  out  shrewdly  in  his  grating  voice.  A  frosty  rime 
was  on  his  head,  and  on  his  eyebrows,  and  his  wiry 
chin.      He    carrie<l    his    own    low    tempcratiu*e    always 

•out  with  him;  he  iced  his  oflSce  in  the  dog-days;  and 
Mid  n't  thaw  it  one  degree  at  Christmas. 

0.  Extenial  heat  and  cold  had  little  influence  on 
St^rooge.  No  warmth  could  wunn,  no  wintrj'  weather 
chill  liim      Xo  wind  tljat  bl"w  ""<  bi^erer  than  he,  no 

10 


290  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

falling  snow  was  more  intent  upon  its  purpose,  no 
pelting  rain  less  open  to  entreaty.  Foul  weather  didn't 
know  where  to  have  him.  The  heaviest  rain,  and  snow, 
and  hail,  and  sleet,  could  boast  of  the  advantage  over 
him  in  only  one  respect  They  often  "came  down 
handsomely,''  and  Scrooge  never  did. 

7.  Nobody  ever  stopped  him  in  the  street  to  say, 
with  gladsome  looks,  "My  dear  Scrooge,  how  are  you? 
When  will  you  come  to  see  met"  No  beggars  implored 
him  to  bestow  a  trifle,  no  children  asked  him  what  it 
was  o'clock,  no  man  or  woman  ever  once  in  all  his  life 
inquired  the  way  to  such  and  such  a  place,  of  Scrooge. 
Even  the  blind  men's  dogs  appeared  to  know  himj  and 
when  they  saw  him  coming  on,  would  tug  their  owners 
into  doorways  and  up  courts  j  and  then  would  wag 
their  tails  as  though  they  said,  "No  eye  at  all  is  better 
than  an  e^^l  eye,  dark  master!" 

8.  But  what  did  Scrooge  care!  It  was  the  very 
thing  he  liked.  To  edge  his  way  along  the  crowded 
paths  of  life,  warning  aU  human  sympathy  to  keep  its 
distance,  was  what  the  knowing  ones  called  'fnuts"  to 
Scrooge. 

9.  Once  upon  a  time — of  all  the  good  days  in  the 
year,  on  Christmas  eve — old  Scrooge  sat  busy  in  his 
couu ting-house.  It  was  cold,  bleak,  biting  weather: 
foggy  withal;  and  he  could  hear  the  people  in  the 
court  outside  go  wheezing  up  and  down,  beating  their 
hands  upon  their  breasts,  and  stamping  their  feet  upon 
the  pavement  stones  to  warm  them.  The  city  clocks 
had  only  j  ust  gone  three,  but  it  was  quite  dark  already — 
it  had  not  been  light  aU  day — and  candles  were  flaring 
in  the  windows  of  the  neighboring  ofi&ces,  like  ruddy 
smears  upon  the  palpable  brown  aii\  The  fog  came 
pouring  in  at  every  chink  and  key-hole,  and  was  so 
dense  without,  that  although  the  court  was  of  the  nar- 
rowest, the  houses  opposite  were  mere  phantoms.     To 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  291 

see  the  dingy  cloud  come  drooping  down,  obscuring 
ever}i;hing,  one  miglit  have  thought  that  Nature  lived 
hard  by,  and  was  brewing  on  a  large  scale. 

10.  The  door  of  Scrooge's  counting-house  was  open, 
tliat  he  might  keep  his  eye  upon  his  clerk,  who  in  a 
dismal  little  cell  beyond,  a  sort  of  tank,  was  copying 
lcttc'i*s.  Scrooge  had  a  very  small  fire,  but  the  clerk's 
fire  was  so  very  much  smaller  that  it  looked  like  one 
f'oal.     But  he  could  not  replenish  it,  for  Scrooge  kept 

he  coal-box  in  his  own  room;  and  so  surely  as  the 
clerk  came  in  with  the  shovel,  the  master  predicted  that 
it  would  be  necessary  for  them   to   part.     Wherefore, 

he  clerk  put  on  his  white  comforter,  and  tried  to  warm 
himself  at  the  candle;  in  which  effort,  not  being  a  man 
of  a  strong  imagination,  he  failed. 

11.  "A  merry  Christmas,  uncle!  God  save  you!" 
<  ried  a  cheerful  voice.  It  was  the  voice  of  Scrooge's 
nephew,  who  came  upon  him  so  quickly  that  this  was 
the  first  intimation  Scrooge  had  of  his  approach. 

"Bah!"  said  Scrooge;  "humbug!" 
"Christmas  a  humbug,  uncle  1    You  don't  mean  that, 
I  am  sure?" 

12.  "I  do..  Out  upon  merry  Christmas!  What's 
rhristmas  time  to  you  but  a  time  for  paying  bills 
Nvithout  money;  a  time  for  finding  yourself  a  year 
older,  and  not  an  hour  richer;  a  time  for  balancmg 
your  books  and  having  every  item  in  'em  through  a 
tuund  dozen  of  months  presented  dead  against  yout 
!      !    liad  my  will,   every  idiot  who  goes  about  with 

Mirrj'  Christmas'  on  his  lips  should  be  boiled  with  his 
•w'u  pudding,  and  buried  with  a  stake  of  holly  through 
his  heart    He  should !" 
"Uncle!" 

13.  "Nephew,  keep  Christmas  in  your  own  way,  and 
1ft  me  keep  it  in  mine." 

"Keep  it!    But  you  don't  keep  it." 


292  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

"Let  me  leave  it  alone,  then.  Much  good  may  it  do 
you!    Much  good  it  has  ever  done  you!" 

14.  "There  are  many  things  from  which  I  might 
have  derived  good,  by  which  I  have  not  profited,  I  dare 
say,  Christmas  among  the  rest.  But  I  am  sure  I  have 
always  thought  of  Christmas  time,  when  it  has  come 
round — apart  from  the  veneration  due  to  its  sacred 
origin,  if  anything  belonging  to  it  can  be  apart  from 
that — as  a  good  time;  a  kind,  forgiving,  charitable, 
pleasant  timej  the  only  time  I  know  of,  in  the  long 
calendar  of  the  year,  when  men  and  women  seem  by 
one  consent  to  open  their  shut-up  hearts  freely,  and  to 
think  of  people  below  them  as  if  they  really  were  fel- 
low-travelers to  the  grave,  and  not  another  race  of 
creatures  bound  on  other  journeys.  And  therefore, 
uncle,  though  it  has  never  put  a  scrap  of  gold  or  silver 
in  my  pocket,  I  believe  that  it  has  done  me  good,  and 
trill  do  me  good;  and  I  say,  God  bless  it!'' 

The  clerk  in  the  tank  involuntarily  applauded. 

15.  "Let  me  hear  another  sound  from  you/'  said 
Scrooge,  "and  you'll  keep  your  Christmas  by  losing 
your  situation!  You're  quite  a  powerful  speaker,  sir," 
he  added,  turning  to  his  nephew.  "I  wonder  you  don't 
go  into  Parliament." 

"Don't  be  angry,  uncle.  Come!  Dine  with  us  to- 
morrow." 

16.  Scrooge  said  that  he  would  see  him — yeS;  indeed 
he  did.  He  went  the  whole  length  of  the  expression, 
and  said  that  he  would  see  him  in  that  extremity  first 

"But  why?"  cried  Scrooge's  nephew.     "Why?" 
"Why  did  you  get  married?" 
"Because  I  fell  in  love." 

17.  "Because  you  fell  in  love!"  growled  Scrooge,  as 
if  that  were  the  only  one  thing  in  the  world  more  rid- 
iculous than  a  merrj^  Christmas.     "Good-afternoon!" 

"Nay,  uncle,  but  you  never  came  to  see  me  before 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  293 

that  happened.  Wliy  give  it  as  a  reason  for  not  coming 
now?" 

"Good-afteraoon!" 

"I  want  notliing  from  you;  I  ask  nothing  of  you; 
why  cannot  we  be  friends?" 

"Good-afternoon!" 

18.  "I  am  sorry,  with  all  my  heart,  to  find  you  so 
resolute.  We  have  never  had  any  quarrel  to  which  I 
have  been  a  party.  But  I  have  made  the  trial  in  homage 
to  Christmas,  and  I'll  keep  my  Christmas  humor  to  the 
last.    So  a  merry  Christmas,  uncle!" 

"  Good-afternoon ! " 

"And  a  happy  New  Yeai*!" 

"  Good-afternoon  ! "  Dickens's  "  ChrMma,  OaroL" 


9.    DEFENSE  OF  POETRY. 

1.  We  believe  that  pdetrify  far  from  injuring  society, 
is  one  of  the  great  instruments  of  its  refinement  and 
exalt4ti(m.  It  lifts  the  mind  above  ordinary  Z(/e,  gives 
it  a  rhpite  from  deprhsing  cares,  and  awakens  the  con- 
sciousness of  its  affinity  with  what  is  pure  and  noble. 
In  its  legitimate  and  highest  efforts,  it  has  the  same 
tendency  and  aim  with  Christidnity;  that  is,  to  spir- 
iiualize  our  ntiture. 

2.  True,  poetry  has  been  made  the  instrument  of  t4c€, 
the  pander  of  bad  pt\ssions;  but  when  genius  thus 
stoops,  it  dims  its  fires,  and  parts  with  much  of  its 
pdwer;  and  even  when  Poetry  is  enslaved  to  licentious- 
ness and  misanthropy,  she  can  not  wholly  forget  her 
true  vociitioH.  Strains  of  pure  feeling,  touches  of  tender- 
ness, images  of  innocent  happiness,  sympathies  with  what 
is  good  in  our  ntUure,  bursts  of  scorn  or  indignation 
at  the  hoUowness  of  the  world,  passages  true  to  our 
mdral   nature,  often   escape   in   an    immoral   wdrk,  and 


294  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

show  us  how  hard  it  is  for  a  ifi/hd  spirit  to  div«»iv. 
itself  wholly  from  what  is  tjnod, 

n.   Poetry  has  a  natural  alliance  with  our  best  aff^f 
tioits.     It  delights  in  the  beauty  and  sublimity  of  otdwan 
nature  and  of  the  soul.    It  indeed  portrays  with  terrible 
energy  the  excises  of  the  passions,  but  they  are  passion 
which  show  a  fnUjhtif  nature,  which  an    lull  of  pawn. 
whi<-]i  r(,i!,ni,iii(l  '/'"■■.  and  excite  a  deep  though  sluuMcr- 
ing  siiniiniiliij. 

4.  Its  urtat  fui'Jniri/  and  purpose  is  to  carry  the  mind 
beyond  and  above  the  beaten,  dusty,  weary  walks  of  ord' 
nary  life;  to  lift  it  into  a  purer  elomont.  and  to  breatli 
into  it  more  profound  and  ghitrons  (inoiion.     It  reveal 
to  us  the  loveliness  of  ii')f>ir>.  brings  back  the  freshne- 
of  youthful  fhh'ng,  rovi\ »  s  the  relish  of  simple  pUasure,s, 
keeps   unquenched   tin-   enthusiasm   which   warmed   the 
spring-time  of  our  being,  refines  youthful  /^v,  strength- 
ens our  interest  in  human  vnfuro  by  vivid  delineations 
of  its  t^nderest  and  loftiest  /''In^'js,  spreads  our  sympa- 
thies ov.'r  all  classes  of  socidij,  knits  us  by  new  ties  with 
UHivu'fidJ  bniu/,  and.  through  the  brightness  of  its  pro- 
phetic risiotis.  lulps  faith  to  lay  hold  on  the  future  life. 

5.  We  art'  aware  that  it  is  objected  to  poetry  that  it 
gives  u'rihiij  riews  and  excites  fdls-r^  ^ru.rtriiinj^ff  of  life, 
peoples  the  mind  with  ^J(0'h,irs  aip  :id  builds 
up  i))i(i(/i)iiifl'ni  on  the  ruins  of  uiisdom.  That  there  h 
a  wisdom  against  which  poetry  wars — ^the  wisdom  of  the 
senses,  which  makes  phiisii-a]  eomfort  and  gratification 
the  supreme  good,  and  wealth  the  chief  interest  of  life — 
we  do  not  deny;  nor  do  we  deem  it  the  least  service 
which  poetry  renders  to  mankind,  that  it  redeems  them 
fi'om  the  tliralldom  of  this  earth-born  pmdence. 

6.  But,  passing  over  tlus  topic,  we  would  observe  that 
the  complaint  against  j>'>>tri/.  as  abounding  in  iUiisioii 
and  deception,  is,  in  the  main,  groundless.  In  many 
poems  there  is  more  of  truth  than  in  naany  histories  and 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  295 

philosophic  theories.  The  fictions  of  g6nius  are  often  the 
rrhicles  of  the  suhUmest  vPritieSj  and  its  flashes  often 
open  new  regions  of  thought,  and  throw  new  light  on 
the  mysteries  of  our  being.  In  poetry,  when  the  letter  is 
fdlsehood,  the  spirit  is  often  profotindest  wisdom. 

7.  And  if  triUh  thus  dwells  in  the  boldest  fictions  of 
the  p6et,  much  more  may  it  be  expected  in  his  delinea- 
tions of  l\fe;  for  the  present  life,  which  is  the  first  stage 
of  the  immortal  mind,  abounds  in  the  materials  of  p6etry, 
and  it  is  the  high  office  of  the  bard  to  detect  this  divine 
element  among  the  grosser  labors  and  pleasures  of  our 
earthly  being.  The  present  life  is  not  wholly  prosaic, 
precise,  tdme,  and  finite.  To  the  gifted  eye  it  abounds 
in  the  poetic. 

8.  The  affktionSj  which  spread  beyond  ourselves  and 
stretch  far  into  futurity;  the  workings  of  mighty  passions, 
which  seem  to  arm  the  soul  with  an  almost  superhuman 
energy;  the  innocent  and  irrepressible  joy  of  infancy; 
the  bloom,  and  buoyancy,  and  dazzling  h6pes  of  youth; 
the  throbbings  of  the  heart,  when  it  first  wakes  to  love, 
and  dreams  of  a  happiness  ^/w  vast  for  4arth;  wdman, 
with  her  beauty,  and  grtice,  and  g^^ntleness,  and  fullness 
of  feeling,  and  depth  of  affection,  and  blushes  of  purity, 
and  the  t6nes  and  looks  which  only  a  mother's  heart  can 
inspire — these  are  dll  poetical. 

9.  It  is  not  tnU  that  the  poet  paints  a  life  which 
does  not  exist.  He  only  extracts  and  conc^ntl•ates,  as  it 
w^re,  life's  ethereal  hsence,  arrests  and  condenses  its 
volatile  frdgrathcej  brings  together  its  scattered  bbauties, 
and  prolongs  its  more  refined  but  evanescent  joys.  And 
in  this  ho  does  tcHl;  for  it  is  good  to  feel  that  life  is 
not  wholly  usurped  by  cares  for  subsistence  and  physical 
gratificdtions,  but  admits,  in  measures  which  may  be 
indefinitely  enldrgedy  sentiments  and  delights  worthy  of 
a  higher  Uing.  ciux»uio. 


296  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


10.    FALSTAFF. 


IThis  extract  affords  an  example  of  ^* humorous  style,*^  with  prevail- 
ing circumflex  inflections.^ 

'  1.  There  is  something  cordial  ift  a  fat  man.  Every 
body  likes  Mm,  and  he  likes  h'eryhody.  Food  does  a  fat 
man  good;  it  eTimjs  to  him;  it  fructifies  upon  him;  Ik 
swells  nohhj  out,  and  fills  a  generous  spdce  in  life.  A 
fat  man^  therefore,  almost  in  virtue  of  behig  a  fat  m^ii. 
is,  per  s^,  a  popular  m^u;  and  he  commonly  deserves  hi 
popularity. 

2.  A  flit  man  feels  his  position  s6lid  in  the  world; 
he  knows  that  his  being  is  cognizable;  he  knows  that 
he  has  a  marled  pltice  in  the  universe,  and  that  he  need 
take  no  extraordinary  pains  to  advertise  mankind  that 
he  is  among  them;  he  knows  that  he  is  in  no  danger 
of  being  overlooked. 

3.  A  fat  man  is  the  nearest  to  that  most  perfect  of 
figures,  a  mathematical  sphere;  a  thin  man,  to  that  most 
limited  of  conceivable  dimensions,  a  simple  line.  A  fni 
man  is  a  being  of  harmonious  volume,  and  holds  relation 
to  the  material  universe  in  every  direction;  a  thin  man 
has  nothing  but  length-,  a  tMn  man,  in  fact,  is  but  the 
continuation  of  a  point. 

4.  Well  then  might  Falstaff  exult  in  his  she;  well 
might  he  mock  at  the  prince,  and  his  other  Uan  contem- 
poraries; and,  accordingly,  when  he  would  address  the 
prince  in  terms  the  mo&t*  degrading,  he  heaps  epithet 
upon  epithet,  each  expressive  of  the  utmost  leanness. 
^'•Atvdy,  you  stdrveling,^^  he  exclaims;  "you  eel-skin;  you 
dried  neafs-tongxie;  you  stock-^sh.  O  for  breath  to  utter 
what  is  Uke  thee!" 

5.  Falstaff  was  an  epicure,  but  uo  gUtton.  He  was 
not  a  great  eater,  for  liis  bill  contained  a  halfpenny- 
worth of  bread  to  an  intolerable  quantity  of  sack.  And 
although  Falstaff  was  a  large  drinker,  he  was  no  inebriait. 


4^. 


scirooL  EL()(  1   I  i«>\.  297 

And  here  we  ci^ium-im-  a  rin(.-^(tiiii/f<nr  <nt  m  iSliakespeare, 
who    sustains    Falstaff    throughout|  in    our    intellectual 
>spht,     .     .     . 

6.  As  to  ins,  tiity  WL'i-c  in  the  way  of  his  vocdtion. 
The  highest  stretch  of  imagi nation  could  not  even  siis- 
pect  him  of  verdcity;  and  if  he  hml  any  dupeSj  they  were 
strongly  in  love  witli  deception.  His  lies,  too,  were  the 
lies  of  a  professed  and  known  tvit;  they  were  designed 
only  for  ludicrous  effect j  and  generally  were  little  more 
tlian  comic  exaggerations.     In  the  events  at  Gad's  hill, 

nd  th^e  that  immediately  follow  them,  there  is  an 
5^2IilUii.  of  the  ichole  character  of  FMstaff;  but  there  is, 

!t  the  same  time,  an  evident  design  on  the  part  of  the 
poet,  to  bring  out  his  peculiarities  with  grotesque  extrdv- 
<ig(tnce,  and  to  produce  the  broadest  and  the  most  comic 
result.    .     . 

7.  Falstaff  has  both  wit  and  hiimor;  hut  more  ot  uit, 
I  think,  than  Juhnor.  Between  wit  and  humor  there  is 
an  evident  distinction,  but  to  submit  the  distinction  to 
minute  criticism  would  require  more  time  than  we  cftn 
-I)i\re;  and,  after  all,  it  is  more  easy  to  feel  than  to 
cxpMin  it.  Wtt  implies  thought;  hiimor ^  sensibility.  Wtt 
deals  with  id^as;  humor,  with  dctions  and  with  mdn- 
)h  rs.  WU  may  be  a  thing  of  pure  imagindtion;  humor 
involves  sentiment  and  chdracter.  WU  is  an  hsence; 
humor,  an  incarnation. 

8.  Wit  and  humor,  however,  have  sSme  qualities  in 
c6mmon.  Both  develop  unexpected  andlogies;  both  in- 
clude the  principles  of  contrast  and  assimildtion;  both 
detect  inward  resemblances  amidst  <^jternal  differences, 
and  the  result  of  both  is  pleasurable  surprise;  the  sur- 
prise from  wtt  excites  admiration,  the  surprise  from 
humor  stimulates  merriment,  and  produces  laughter. 

9.  FalsbiflTs  in7  is  rich  as  his  imagindtion;  w^  protJfu 
as  it  is  'f^TcHous.  It  is  pungent,  cdpious,  brilliant  in 
exprhsioHy  and  decisive  i?i  # V77r/     It  never  falls  shSrt  of 


298  SCHOOL   ELOCUTION. 

its  aim,  and  never  misses  it.    And  this  rare  tdt  is  wholly 
devoted  to  the  lUdicroiis.  HnniT  gium. 


11.    WEALTH. 

1.  As  soon  as  a  stranger  is  introduced  into  any  com- 
pany, one  of  the  first  questions  which  all  wish  to  have 
answered,  is.  How  does  that  man  get  his  living?  And 
with  reason.  He  is  no  whole  man  until  he  knows  how 
to  earn  a  blameless  livelihood.  Society  is  barbarous, 
until  every  industrious  man  can  get  his  li^^ng  Tvithout 
dishonest  customs. 

2.  Every  man  is  a  consumer,  and  ought  to  be  a  pro- 
ducer. He  fails  to  make  his  place  good  in  the  world, 
unless  he  not  only  pays  his  debt,  but  also  adds  some- 
thing to  the  common  wealth.  Nor  can  he  do  justice 
to  his  genius,  without  making  some  larger  demand  on 
the  world  than  a  bare  subsistence.  He  is  by  constitu- 
tibn  expensive,  and  needs  to  be  rich. 

3.  Wealth  has  its  source  in  applications  of  the  mind 
to  nature,  from  the  rudest  strokes  of  spade  and  ax, 
up  to  the  last  secrets  of  art.  Intimate  ties  subsist  be- 
tween thought  and  all  production,-  because  a  better  or- 
der is  equivalent  to  vast  amounts  of  brute  labor.  The 
forces  and  the  resistances  are  Nature's,  but  the  mind 
acts  in  bringing  things  from  where  they  abound  to  where 
they  are  wanted;  in  wise  combining;  in  directing  the 
practice  of  the  useful  arts,  and  in  the  creation  of  finer 
values,  by  fine  art,  by  eloquence,  by  song,  or  the  repro- 
ductions of  memory. 

4.  Wealth  is  in  applications  of  mind  to  natiu-e;  and 
the  art  of  getting  rich  consists  not  in  industry,  much 
less  in  saving,  but  in  a  better  order,  in  timeliness,  in 
being  at  the  right  spot.  One  man  has  stronger  arms, 
or  longer  legs;   another  sees  by  the  coiu^e  of  streams. 


^PTTOOL    ELOCUTION.  299 

and  growth  ot  markets,  where  land  will  be  wanted, 
makes  a  clearing  to  the  river,  goes  to  sleep,  and  wakes 
up  rich.  Steam  is  no  stronger  now,  than  it  was  a  hun- 
<lred  years  agoj  but  is  put  to  better  use.  A  clever 
fellow  was  acquainted  with  the  expansive  force  of  steam; 
he  also  saw  the.  wealth  of  wheat  and  grass  rotting  in 
Michigan.  Then  he  cunningly  screws  on  the  steam-pipe 
to  the  wheat  crop.  Puff  now,  O  Steam!  The  steam 
puffs  and  expands  as  before,  but  this  time  it  is  dragging 
all  Michigan  at  its  back  to  hungry  New  York  and 
liimgry  England. 

5.  Coal  lay  in  ledges  under  the  ground  since  the 
flood,  until  a  laborer  with  pick  and  windlass  brings  it 
to  the  surface.  We  may  well  call  it  black  diamonds. 
I^verj'  basket  is  power  and  civilization.  For  coal  is  a 
})ortable  climate.  It  canies  the  heat  of  the  tropics  to 
Labrador  and  the  polar  circle:  and  it  is  the  means  of 
transporting  itself  whithersoever  it  is  wanted.  Watt 
and  Stephenson  whisi)ered  in  the  ear  of  mankind  their 
secret,  that  a  half  ounce  of  coal  will  draw  two  tons  a 
mile,  and  coal  carries  coal,  by  rail  and  by  boat,  to  make 
Canada  as  warm  as  Calcutta,  and  with  its  comfort  brings 
its  industrial  power. 

0.  When  the  farmer's  peaches  are  taken  from  under 
the  tree,  and  carried  into  town,  they  have  a  new  look, 
and  a  hundredfold  value  over  the  fruit  which  grew  on 
the  same  bough,  and  lies  fulsomely  on  the  ground. 
The  craft  of  the  merchant  is  this  bringing  a  thing  from 
where  it  abounds,  to  where  it  is  costly. 

7.  Wealth  begins  in  a  tight  roof  that  keeps  the  rain 
and  wind  out;  in  a  good  pump  that  yields  you  plenty 
of  sweet  water;  in  two  suits  of  clothes,  so  to  change 
your  dress  when  you  are  wet;  in  dry  sticks  to  bum; 
in  a  good  double-wick  lamp;  and  three  meals;  in  a 
lorse,  or  a  locomotive,  to  cross  the  land;  in  o,  boat  to 
cross  the  sea;  in  tools  to  work  with;  in  books  to  read; 


300  8UHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

and  so,  in  giving,  on  all  sides,  by  tools  and  auxiliaries, 
the  greatest  possible  extension  to  our  powers,  as  if  it 
added  feet,  and  hands,  and  eyes,  and  blood,  length  to 
the  day,  and  knowledge,  and  good-will. 

8.  Wealth  begins  with  these  articles  of  necessity.  And 
here  we  must  recite  the  iron  law  which  Nature  thunders 
in  these  northern  climates.  First,  she  requires  that  each 
man  should  feed  himself.  If,  happily,  his  fathei-s  have 
left  him  no  inheritance,  he  must  go  to  work,  and  by 
making  his  wants  less,  of  his  gains  more,  he  must  draw 
himself  out  of  that  state  of  pain  and  insult  in  which 
she  forces  the  beggar  to  lie.  She  gives  hun  no  rest 
until  tliis  is  done:  she  starves,  taunts,  and  torments 
him,  takes  away  warmth,  laughter,  sleep,  friends,  and 
daylight,  until  he  has  fought  his  way  to  his  own  loaf. 
Then,  less  peremptorily,  but  still  with  sting  enougli. 
she  urges  him  to  the  acquisition  of  such  things  as  be- 
long to  him.  Every  warehouse  and  shop-window,  every 
fruit-tree,  every  thought  of  every  hour,  opens  a  new 
want  to  him,  which  it  concerns  his  power  and  dignity 

to    gratify.  Emermti",  EBmy,. 


12.     THE    ASTRONOMER'S    VISION. 

[This  extract,  trmiskited  and  paraphrased  by  Professor  Mitchell,  is 
characterized  by  solemnity  and  sublimityf  awe  and  wonder.  It  should 
be  read  with  subdued  force,  median  stress,  orotund  quality,  low  pitch.'] 

1.  Q6d  called  up  from  dreams  a  man  into  the  vest' 
hule  of  Mavetij  saying,  "Come  thou  hither  and  see  the 
glory  of  my  h6use."  And  to  the  servants  that  stood 
around  his  throne  he  said,  "Take  him,  and  undress  him 
from  his  robes  of  flesh:  cleanse  his  vision,  and  put  a 
new  breath  into  his  nostrils:  only  touch  not  with  any 
change  his  human  heart — the  heart  tbat  tveeps  and 
tremhlesJ^ 

2.  It  was   done:    and,   mth   a   mighty   angel  for   his 


SCHOOL    ELOriTTION.  301 

guuir.  In,  iiu...  .-iu*>d  rt'cKly  ior  liis  infinite  voyage;  and 
from  the  terraces  of  heaven,  without  sound  or  farewell, 
at  once  they  wheeled  away  into  Endless  spAce.  Some- 
times with  the  solemn  flight  of  angel  whig  they  fled 
through  infinite  realms  of  darkness^  through  wildernesses 
of  d^afhy  that  divided  the  wdrlds  of  life;  sometunes 
they  swept  over  frontiers  that  were  quickening  under 
inopheiic  motions  from  Odd. 

3.  Then  from  a  distance  that  is  counted  only  in 
Mavetiy  light  dawned  for  a  time  through  a  sleepy  film; 
by  unuttenible  pdce^  the  light  swept  to  them,  fheg,  by 
unutterable  pace,  to  the  light.    In  a  moment,  the  rushing 

pldnets  was  up6n  them:  in  a  mdment,  the  blazing  of 
>'ins  was  around  them. 

4.  Then  came  eternities  of  twilight,  that  revealed,  but 
wore  not  revealed.  On  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left 
toward  mighty  constellations,  that  by  self-repetitions  and 
answei-s  from  afar,  that  by  counter-positions,  l)uilt  up 
triumphal  gates,  whose  architraves,  whose  archways — 
horizontal,  upright — rested,  rose  at  altitude,  by  spans 
that  seemed  ghostly  from  infinitude.  Without  measure 
were  the  architraves,  past  number  were  the  archways, 
beyond  memory  the  gdtes. 

5.  Within  were  stairs  that  scaled  the  eternities  bel6w; 
'fhfive  was  below — below  was  abdve,  to  the  man  stripped 

gravitating  body:  d^pth  was  swallowed  up  in  height 
insnrri>.>i}ttnble,  height  was  swallowed  up  in  d('pth  un- 
fa tic  mm  i>/r.  Suddenly,  as  tlius  they  rode  from  infinite 
•  (nfinitey  suddenly,  as  thus  they  tilted  over  abysmal 
wt'jrlds,  a  mighty  cry  ar^se — that  systems  more  mystM- 
"ns,  that  worlds  more  billowy, — other  heights  and  other 

I)ths, — were  cdming,  were  n^aring,  were  at  hand. 

G.   Then  tlie  man  sighed,  and  stooped,  shuddered,  and 

pt.  His  overlmlen  h/art  uttered  itself  in  t^ars,  and 
he  stiid:  "Angel',  I  will  go  no  farther.  For  the  spirit 
of    man  (Icheth  with   this   infinity.     Insiiferable  is  the 


302  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

glory  of  Odd,    Let  me  lie  down  in  the  grave  and  hide 
mo  from  the  prosecution  of  the  Infinite;  for  ^nd^  I  6(  > 
there  is  notie," 

7.  And  from  all  the  listening  stars  that  shone  around 
issued  a  choral  voice:  "The  man  speaks  truly:  ^nd 
there  is  none,  that  ever  yet  we  Mard  of."  "i^wrf'  is 
there  n6ne?"  the  angel  solemnly  demanded.  "Is  there 
indeed  no  6nd? — and  is  this  the  sorrow  that  Mils  you?" 
But  no  vdice  (insicered,  that  he  might  answer  himself. 
Then  the  angel  threw  up  his  glorious  hands  to  the 
heaven  of  heavens,  s4ying,  "End'  is  there  none  to  the 
universe  of  God,    L6 !   41so,  there  iff  no  beginning J^ 


13.    EDUCATION. 

1.  Suppose  it  were  perfectly  certain  that  the  life  and 
fortune  of  every  one  of  us  would,  one  day  or  other, 
depend  upon  his  winning  or  losing  a  game  at  che.^ 
Don't  you  think  that  we  should  aU  consider  it  to  be  a 
primary  duty  to  learn  at  least  the  names  and  the  moves 
of  the  pieces  J  to  have  a  notion  of  a  gambit,  and  a  keen 
eye  for  all  tlfe  means  of  giving  and  getting  out  of  check? 
Do  you  not  think  that  we  should  look  with  a  disappro- 
bation amounting  to  sconi,  upon  the  father  who  allowed 
his  son,  or  the  state  which  allowed  its  members,  to  grow 
up  without  knowing  a  pawn  from  a  knight? 

2.  Yet  it  is  a  very  plain  and  elementary  truth,  that 
the  life,  the  fortune,  and  the  happiness  of  every  one  of 
us,  and,  more  or  less,  of  those  who  are  connected  with 
us,  do  depend  upon  our  knowing  something  of  the  rules 
of  a  game  infinitely  more  difficult  and  complicated  than 
chess.  It  is  a  game  which  has  been  played  for  untold 
ages,  ever}'  man  and  woman  of  us  being  one  of  the 
two  players  in  a  game  of  his  or  her  own.  The  chess- 
board is  the  world,  the  pieces  are  the  phenomena  of  the 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  303 

universe,  the  rules  of  the   game  are  what  we  call  the 
laws  of  Nature. 

3.  The  player  on  the  other  side  is  hidden  from  us. 
We  know  that  his  play  is  always  fair,  just,  and  patient. 
But  also  we  know,  to  our  cost,  that  he  never  overlooks 
a  mistake,  or  makes  the  smallest  allowance  for  ignorance. 
To  the  man  who  plays  well,  the  highest  stakes  are  paid, 
with  that  sort  of  overflowing  generosity  with  which  the 
strong  shows  delight  in  strength.  And  one  who  plays 
ill  is  checkmated — without  haste,  but  without  remorse. 

4.  Well,  what  I  mean  by  Education  is  learning  the 
rules  of  this  mighty  game.  In  other  words,  education 
is  the  instruction  of  the  intellect  in  the  laws  of  Nature, 
under  which  name  I  include  not  merely  things  and  their 
forces,  but  men  and  their  ways;  and  the  fashioning  of 
the  affections  and  of  the  will  into  an  earnest  and  loving 
desire  to  move  in  harmony  with  those  laws.  For  me, 
education  means  neither  more  nor  less  than  this.  Any- 
thing which  professes  to  call  itself  education  must  be 
tried  by  this  standard,  and  if  it  fails  to  stand  the  test, 
I  will  not  call  it  education,  whatever  may  be  the  force 
of  authority,  or  of  numbers,  upon  the  other  side. 

5.  It  is  important  to  remember  that,  in  strictness, 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  an  uneducated  man.  Take  an 
extreme  case.  Suppose  that  an  adult  man,  in  the  full 
vigor  of  his  faculties,  could  be  suddenly  placed  in  the 
world,  as  Adam  is  said  to  have  been,  and  then  left  to 
do  as  he  best  might.  How  long  would  he  be  left  un- 
educated f  Not  five  minutes.  Nature  would  begin  to 
teach  him,  through  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  touch,  the 
properties  of  objects.  Pain  and  pleasure  would  be  at 
his  elbow  telling  him  to  do  this  and  avoid  that;  and  by 
slow  degrees  the  man  would  receive  an  education,  which, 
if  narrow,  would  be  thorough,  real,  and  adequate  to  his 
circumstances,  though  there  would  be  no  extras  and 
very  few  accomplishments. 


304  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

6.  Those  who  take  honors  in  Nature's  nniversity,  who 
learn  the  laws  which  govern  men  and  things  and  obey 
them,  are  the  really  great  and  successful  men  in  this 
world.  Those  who  won't  leam  at  all  are  plucked;  and 
then  you  can't  come  up  again.  Nature's  pluck  means 
extermination. 

7.  Thus  the  question  of  compulsory  education  is  set 
tied  so  far  as  Nature  is  concerned.  Her  bill  on  that 
question  was  framed  and  passed  long  ago.  But,  like 
all  compulsory  legislation,  that  of  Nature  is  harsh  and 
wasteful  in  its  operation.  Ignorance  is  visited  as  sharply 
as  willful  disol)edience — incapacity  meets  with  the  same 
punishment  as  crime.  Nature's  discipline  is  not  even  a 
word  and  a  blow,  and  the  blow  first;  but  the  blow 
without  the  word.  It  is  left  to  you  t^^^find  out  why 
your  ears  are  boxed.  //^  n,  ^,^^ 


14.    MATHEMATICS  AND  PHYSICS. 

1.  For  all  the  higher  arts  of  constmction,  some 
acquaintance  with  mathematics  is  indispensable.  Th( 
village  cai*j)enter,  who,  lacking  rational  instruction,  lay> 
out  his  work  by  empirical  rules  learnt  in  his  appren- 
ticeship, equally  with  the  builder  of  a  Britannia  Bridge . 
makes  hourly  referenda  to  the  laws  of  quantitative  rela 
tions.  Tlie  surveyor  <»ii  whose  survey  the  land  is 
purchased,  the  architect  in  designing  a  mansion  to  be 
built  on  it,  the  builder  in  preparing  his  estimates,  his 
foreman  in  lajdng  out  the  foundations,  the  masons  in 
cutting  the  stones,  and  the  various  artisans  who  put  up 
the  fittings,  are  all  guided  by  geometrical  truths.  Rail- 
way-making is  regulated  from  beginning  to  end  by 
mathematics:  alike  in  the  preparation  of  plans  and  sec- 
tions, in  staking  out  the  line,  in  the  mensuration  of 
cuttings  and  esmbankments,  in  the  designing,  estimating, 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  305 

and  building  of  bridges,  culverts,  viaducts,  tunnels,  sta- 
tions. And  similarly  with  the  harboi*s,  docks,  piers,  and 
ii-ious  engineeriug  and  architectural  works  that  fringe 
the  coasts  and  overspread  the  face  of  the  country,  as 
well  as  the  mines  that  run  underneath  it. 

2.  Out  of  geometry,  too,  as  applied  to  astronomy,  the 
art  of  naWgation  has  grown;  and  so,  by  this  science, 
has  been  made  possible  that  enormous  foreign  commerce 

liich  supports  a  large  part  of  our  population,  and 
-applies  us  witli  many  ]i«M'«'ssaries  and  most  of  our 
luxuries. 

3.  And  nowadays  even  the  farmer,  for  the  correct 
laying  out  of  his  dmins,  has  recourse  to  the  level — that 

.  to  geometrical  principles.  When  from  those  divisions 
ot  mathematics  which  deal  with  space,  and  numUr,  some 
small  smattering  of  which  is  given  in  schools,  we  turn 

•  that  other  division  which  deals  with  force — of  which 

\  on  a  smattering  is  scai'cely  ever  given — we  meet  with 
another  large  class  of  activities  which  this  science  pre- 

(les  over. 

4.  On  the  application  of  rational  mechanics  depends 
the  success  of  nearly  all  modem  manufacture.  The 
properties  of  the  lever,  the  wheel  and  axle,  etc.,  &ve 
involved  in  every  machine;  every  machine  is  a  solidified 
mechanical  theorem;  and  to  machinery  in  these  times 
we  owe  nearly  all  production. 

").  Trace  the  history  of  the  breakfast-roll.  The  soil 
out  of  which  it  came  was  drained  with  machine-made 
tiles;  the  surface  was  turned  over  by  a  machine;  the 
seed  was  put  in  by  a  machine;  the  wheat  was  reaped, 
ihrashetl,  and  \\nimowed  by  machines;  by  machinery  it 
was  ground  and  bolted;  and  had  the  flour  been  sent  to 
Oosport,  it  might  have  been  made  into  bisciuts  by  a 
machine. 

6.  Look  ronnd  the  room  in  which  you  sit.  If  mod- 
cm,  probably  the  bricks  in  its  walls  were  machine-made; 


306  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

by  machinery  the  flooring  was  sawn  and  planed,  the 
mantel-shelf  sawn  and  polished,  the  paper-hangings  made 
and  printed  J  the  veneer  on  the  table,  the  turned  legs  of 
the  chaii*s,  the  carpet,  the  curtains,  are  aU  products  of 
machiner5\ 

7.  And  your  chjthing — plain,  figured,  or  printed — is 
it  not  wholly  woven,  nay,  perhaps  even  sewed,  by  ma- 
chinery! And  the  volume  you  are  reading — are  not  its 
leaves  fabricated  by  one  machine  and  covered  with  these 
words  by  another!  Add  to  wliich,  that,  for  the  means 
of  distribution  over  both  land  and  sea,  we  are  similarly 
indebted. 

8.  And  then  let  it  be  remembered  that  according  as 
the  principles  of  mechanics  are  well  or  ill  used  to  these 
ends,  comes  success  or  failure — individual  and  national. 
The  engineer  who  misapplies  his  formula?  for  the  strength 
of  materials,  builds  a  bridge  that  breaks  down.  The 
manufacturer  whose  apparatus  is  badly  devised,  can  not 
compete  with  another  whose  apparatus  wastes  less  in 
friction  and  inertia. 

9.  The  ship-builder  adhering  to  the  old  model  is  out- 
sailed by  one  who  builds  on  the  mechanically  justified 
wave-line  principle.  And  as  the  ability  of  a  nation  to 
hold  its  own  against  other  nations  depends  on  the  skilled 
activity  of  its  units,  we  see  that  on  such  knowledge 
may  turn  the  national  fate.  Judge,  then,  the  worth  of 
mathematics. 

10.  Pass  next  to  jlhysics.  Joined  with  mathematics, 
it  has  given  us  the  steam-engine,  which  does  the  work 
of  millions  of  laborers.  That  section  of  physics  which 
deals  with  the  laws  of  heat,  has  taught  us  how  to  econ- 
omize fuel  in  our  various  industries  j  how  to  increase 
the  produce  of  our  smelting  furnaces  by  substituting 
the  hot  for  the  cold  blast j  how  to  ventilate  our  mines ^ 
how  to  prevent  explosions  by  using  the  safety-lamp  j 
and,  thi*ough  the  thermometer,  how  to  regulate  innumer- 


SCHOOL    1.1.IM   L  TION.  307 

able  processes.  That  division  which  has  the  phenomena 
of  light  for  its  subject,  gives  eyes  to  the  old  and  the 
myopic  J  aids  through  the  microscope  in  detecting  dis- 
(ases  and  adulterations  j  and  by  improved  lighthouses 
[nvvonts  shipwTecks. 

11.  llesearches  in  electricity  and  magnetism  have  saved 
incalculable  life  and  property  by  the  compass;  have 
subserved  sundry  arts  by  the  electrotype;  and  now,  in 
the  telegraph,  have  supplied  us  with  the  agency  by 
which,  for  the  future,  all  mercantile  transactions  will  be 
regulated,  political  intercourse  carried  on,  and  perhaps 
national  quarrels  often  avoided.  While  in  the  details 
of  indoor  life,  from  the  improved  kitchen  range  up  to 
the  stereoscope  on  tlie  drawing-room  table,  the  applica- 
tions of  advau(*<'(l  physics  iiiid^'rlic  our  comforts  and 
gratifications.  iiEUBKaT  spencsb. 


SECTION  n. 
PROSE  DECLAMATION'S. 

1.    CHARACTER  OF  TRUE  ELOQUENCE. 

{This  speech  is  characterized  by  full  declamatory  force,  long  pauses, 
strong  emphasis,  prevailing  downward  injlection,  orotund  quality,  and 
radical  stress.  Require  pupils  to  give  reasons  for  the  marking  of  rhe- 
torical pauses  and  inflections.'}  k 

1.  When  public  hddies  |  are  to  be  addressed  |  on  mo- 
mentous occdsionSf  when  great  (nterests  \  are  at  stake, 
and  strong  pdssious  |  excited j  nothing  \  is  valuable  |  in 
speech,  further  than  it  is  connected  |  with  high  intel- 
I'rfintl  I  and  moral  endowments.  CUarneaSy  forccy  and 
"(iiuiftncus  I  are  the  qualities  |  which  produce  coniuction. 
True  ^oquencpy  indeed,  does  not  consist  in  speech.  It 
"''''■'  '■     ^  ••"-'•*  *■• :*•■  -     Labor  and  learning  may 


308  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

t4il  for  it,  but  they  will  toU  in  v(iin.  Wdrds  and  phrdses  \ 
may  be  marshaled  in  hery  wAy,  but  they  can  not  com- 
pass it.  It  must  exist  in  the  man,  in  the  si^hjectj  and 
in  the  occasion. 

2.  Affected  pdssionf  intense  exprhsioUy  the  pomp  of 
derlamdtioHj  dll  \  may  aspire  after  it;  they  cannot  rPach 
it.  It  comes  J  if  it  come  at  ally  like  the  outbreaking  ol 
a  fountain  from  the  hirth,  or  the  bursting  fdrth  of  vol- 
canic f)res,  with  spontaneous,  ortginal,  native  force. 

3.  The  (/races  \  taught  in  the  8ch6ol8,  the  costly  6ma- 
ments  \  and  studied  contrivances  of  speech,  shock  and 
disgiist  men,  when  their  own  lives,  and  the  fate  of  their 
udveSy  their  children,  and  their  country ,  hang  on  the 
decision  of  the  hour.  Then,  w6rds  have  lost  their  pbwery 
rhetoric  is  iy/ih,  and  all  elaborate  oratory  \  conthnptiblc . 
Even  genius  itself  |  then  feels  rebuked  and  subdiiedy  as 
in  the  presence  of  higher  qualities.  TheUy  patriotism  \ 
is  Eloquent;   then,  self-devbtion  \  is  Eloquent. 

4.  The  cUar  conc^ptioUy  outrunning  the  deductions  of 
IdgiCy  the  high  purposCy  the  firm  resblvcy  the  dauntless 
sp)rity  speaking  on  the  tongtiCy  beaming  from  the  epe, 
informing  ^very  fkature,  and  urging  the  ichole  man  \ 
onward,  right  onwardy  to  his  object — thiSy  this  \  is  eloquence; 
or,  rather,  it  is  something  greater  and  higher  than  dll 
eloquence — it  is  dctiony  n5ble,  subllmey  godlike  action. 

2.    NATIONAL  GREATNESS. 

1.  I  believe  there  is  no  permanent  greatness  to  a 
nation  except  it  be  based  upon  morality.  I  do  not  care 
for  military  gi-eatness  or  military  renown.  I  care  for 
the  condition  of  the  iKople  among  whom  I  live.  There 
is  no  man  in  England  who  is  less  likely  to  speak  irrev- 
erently of  the  crown  and  monarchy  of  England  than  I 
am  J  but  crowns,  coronets,  miters,  militarj^  display,  the 
pomp  of  war,  wide  colonies^  and  a  huge  empire  are,  in 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  309 

my  \iew,  all  trities  light  as  airy  and  not  worth  consid- 
ering, unless  with  them  you  can  have  a  fair  share  of 
c6mfort,  contentment,  and  hdppiness  among  the  great 
body  of  the  people. 

2.  Palaces,  baronial  cdstles,  great  hdUs,  stately  m4n- 
sions,  do  not  make  a  mition.  The  nation,  in  every 
country,  dwells  in  the  cottage;  and  unless  the  light  of 
your  constitution  can  shine  tliZre,  unless  the  beauty  of 
your  legislation  and  excellence  of  your  statesmanship 
are  impressed  there  in  the  feelings  and  condition  of  the 
people,  rely  upon  it  you  have  yet  to  learn  the  duties  of 
g6vemment.  joun  bright. 


3.    THE  PASSING  OF  THE  RUBICON. 

[An  example  of  impassioned  argumentative  declamation.'^ 

1.  A  gentleman,  Mr.  President,  speaking  of  Caesar's 
benevolent  disposition^  and  of  the  reluctance  with  which 
he  entered  into  the  civil  wAr,  observes,  "ITom;  long  did 
he  pciuse  upon  the  brink  of  the  Rtibiconf"  How  cdime 
he  to  the  brink  of  that  river!  How  dtired  he  crdss  it? 
Shall  private  men  respect  the  boundaries  of  private 
property,  and  shall  a  man  pay  no  respect  to  the  bound- 
aries of  his  countn/s  rights f  How  ddred  he  cross  that 
river!  0,  but  he  pdused  upon  the  brink!  He  should 
have  pinshed  upon  the  brink  ere  he  had  crossed  it! 

2.  Whp  did  he  pause!  Why  does  a  man's  heart  pdl- 
pitate  when  he  is  on  the  point  of  committing  an  wn- 
Idieful  d^edt  Why  does  the  very  mdrderer,  his  victim 
sleeping  before  him,  and  his  glaring  eye  taking  the 
measure  of  the  blow,  strike  frl^e  of  the  mortal  part! 
Because  of  cdnscicnce!  'Twas  thdt  made  Caesar  pause 
upon  the  brink  of  the  Rubicon. 

3.  Compdssion!  Whdt  compassion!  The  compassion 
of  an  assdssit'    tL.-.i    f....]K  a  momentary  shudder  as  his 


310  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

weapon  begins  to  cut!  Caesar  paused  npon  the  brink 
of  the  Rubicon  1  What  wds  the  Rubicon  T  The  boundary 
of  Caesar^s  province.  From  what  did  it  separate  his 
province!  From  his  count nj,  "Was  that  country  a 
dhertt  Nd:  it  was  cultivated  and  fMile;  rich  and 
populous!  Its  sons  were  men  of  gMus^  spirit y  and  gh\- 
erosity!  Its  daughters  were  lovehj,  susceptible^  and  cMste! 
Friendship  was  its  inhabitant!  Love  was  its  inhabitant! 
Domestic  affkction  was  its  inhabitant!  Liberty  was  it 
inhabitant !  All  bounded  by  the  stream  of  the  Buhicon  . 
4.  What  was  Ccesar^  that  stood  upon  the  brink  ot 
that  river  f  A  trditor,  bringing  war  and  pestilence  into 
the  Mart  of  that  country !  No  wonder  that  he  paused — 
no  wdnder  if,  his  imagination  wrought  upon  by  his  c6u- 
science,  he  had  beheld  blood  instead  of  water;  and  heard 
grdans  instead  of  murmurs!  No  w&iuler  if  some  gorgon 
horror  had  turned  him  into  stone  upon  the  spot!  But, 
nd! — he  cried,  ^^The  die  is  cast!^^  He  plunged! — ^he 
crossed! — and  Rome  teas  free  no  more!  khowlm. 


4.  OUR  DUTIES  TO  OUR  COUNTRY.  • 

{An  example  of  oratorical  declamation.  Movementj  slow;  quality, 
ototmttt;  prevailing  inflections,  falling.} 

1.  This  lovely  Mnd,  this  glorious  liberty,  these  benign 
institutions,  the  dear  purchase  of  our  fathers,  are  ours; 
ours  to  enjoy  J  ours  to  preserve,  ours  to  transmit.  Gen- 
erations past,  and  generations  to  cbmey  hold  us  respon- 
sible for  this  sacred  trust.  Our  fathers,  from  behind, 
admonish  us,  with  their  anxious  paternal  voices;  posterity 
calls  out  to  us,  from  the  bosom  of  the  future;  the  world 
turns  hither  its  solicitous  eyes — all,  all  conjure  us  to  act 
wisely,  and  faithfully,  in  the  relations  which  we  sustain. 

2.  We  can  never,  indeed,  pay  the  debt  which  is  upon 
us;  but  by  virtue,  by  mordUty,  by  religion,  by  the  culti- 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  311 

vation  of  every  good  principle  and  every  good  hdhifj 
wo  may  hope  to  enjoy  the  blessing  through  Sur  day, 
and  to  leave  it  unimpaired  to  our  children.  Let  us  feel 
deeply  how  much  of  what  we  drej  and  what  we  posshSy 
we  owe  to  this  liberty,  and  these  institutions  of  govern- 
ment. 

3.  Nature  has,  indeed,  given  us  a  soil  which  yields 
bounteously  to  the  hands  of  industry;  the  mighty  and 
fruitful  ocean  is  before  us,  and  the  skies  over  our  heads 
shed  health  and  vigor.  But  what  are  IdndSj  and  s^as^ 
and  sl'\es,  to  civilized  mdn,  without  soctety,  without 
knoicledge,  without  morals,  without  religious  culture  f 
and  how  can  these  be  enj6yed,  in  aU  their  extent,  and 
all  their  Excellence,  but  under  the  protection  of  wise 
institutions  and  &  free  government  t 

4.  Fellow-citizens,  there  is  not  one  of  us  here  present 
who  does  not,  at  thts  moment,  and  at  h'ery  moment, 
experience  in  his  own  condition,  and  in  the  condition 
of  those  most  near  and  dear  to  him,  the  influence  and 
the  benefits  of  this  liberty,  and  these  institutions.  Let 
us  then  acknowledge  the  blhsing ;  let  us  feel  it  deeply 
and  powerfully;  let  us  cherish  a  strong  affhtion  for  it, 
and  resolve  to  maintain  and  perpetuate  it.  The  blood 
of  our  fathers f  let  it  not  have  been  shed  in  vMn;  the 
great  hope  of  posterity^  \ct  it  not  be  bids  fed.  wbb8tbk. 


5.    THE  AMERICAN  WAR. 

1.  These  abominable  principles,  and  this  mbre  abom- 
inable avowal  of  them,  demand  the  most  decisive  indig- 
ndtion!  I  call  upon  that  Right  Reverend  Bhich,  those 
holy  ministers  of  the  Oospel,  and  pious  pastors  of  our 
Ckiirch;  I  conjiire  them  to  join  in  the  holy  w6rh,  and 
to  vindicate  the  religion  of  their  God!  I  appeal  |  to 
the  wisdom  \  and  the  Mw  \  of  this  learned  Bhich,  to  de- 


312  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

fend  and  support  the  justice  of  their  country!  I  call 
upon  the  Bishops  \  to  interpose  the  unsullied  sdnctifj/  \ 
of  their  UwHj  upon  the  judges  \  to  inteii)ose  the  puriff/  j 
of  their  Ermine,  to  save  us  from  this  pollution ! 

2.  I  call  upon  the  honor  of  your  Lordships,  to  rever- 
ence the  dignity  of  your  ancestors^  and  to  maintain 
your  own!  I  call  upon  the  spirit  and  humanity  of  my 
cduntry,  to  vindicate  the  national  character!  I  invoke 
the  gMus  of  the  Constitution  !  From  the  tapestry  |  that 
adorns  these  fr(/7/,s-,  the  inmiortal  ancestor  of  the  nobl« 
L6rd  I  frowns  with  indignation  at  the  disgrace  of  his 
country! 

3.  Turn  forth  into  our  settlements^  among  our  ancient 
connectionsy  friends,  and  reldtionSy  the  merciless  cannibal, 
thii'sting  for  the  blood  of  man,  woman,  and  child?  Send 
forth  the  infidel  savage?  Against  whom?  Against  your 
brethren  !  To  lay  waste  their  country,  to  desolate  their 
dwHlings,  and  extirpate  their  race  and  ndmCy  with  these 
horrible  hounds  of  savage  w^! 

4.  Spain  \  armed  herself  with  blood-hounds  to  extiipate 
the  wretched  natives  of  America;  and  we  \  unprove  on 
the  inhuman  example  \  of  even  Spdnish  cruelty; — we 
turn  loose  these  savages,  these  fiendish  hounds,  against 
our  brethren  and  countrymen  in  America,  of  the  same 
Idnguage,  Idws,  liberties,  and  reDgion — endeared  to  us  by 
ever}^  tie  that  should  sanctify  humdnity!  pm. 


6.    FREEDOM. 

I  will  speak  the  words  of  Freedom;  I  wiU  listen  to 
her  mii^ic;  I  will  acknowledge  her  impulses;  I  will  stand 
beneath  her  fldg;  I  will  fight  in  her  ranJcs;  and,  when 
I  do  so,  I  shall  find  myself  surrounded  by  the  great, 
the  wise,  the  good,  the  hrdve,  the  noble  of  every  Idnd. 
If  I  could  stand  for  a  moment  upon  one  of  your  high 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  313 

/*«f/f»/fMu/t-iu|..-,  ..11  <i.nMo  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  civil- 
ized tfJrW,  and  there  might  see,  coming  up,  one  after 
another,  tlie  bravest  and  wisest  of  the  ancient  wdrnorsy 
and  stiUesmeHy  and  lings,  and  monarchs,  and  priests;  and 
if,  as  they  came  lip,  I  might  be  permitted  to*  ask  from 
them  an  expression  of  opinion  upon  such  a  case  as  thts, 
with  a  common  voice  and  in  thunder  tones,  reverberating 
through  a  thousand  valleys,  and  Echoing  down  the  dge^, 
they  would  cry:  ''^ Liberty,  Frhdom,  the  Universal  Brother- 
hood of  MitnV^  I  join  that  shout;  I  swell  that  dnthem; 
I  echo  that  prdise  forever,  and  for  evermore. 

Col.  E.  D.  Baiuul 


7.    THE  VOICES  OF  THE  DEAD. 

1.  The  world  \  is  filled  |  with  the  voices  of  the  dhid. 
They  sp^aJc  \  not  from  the  public  records  of  the  great 
icdrld  only,  but  from  the  private  history  |  of  our  own 
experience.  They  speak  to  us  |  in  a  thousand  remem- 
brances, in  a  thousand  incidents,  hents,  and  associdtions. 
They  spckiJc  to  us,  not  only  from  their  silent  graves,  but 
from  the  throng  of  Ufe.  Though  they  are  invisible,  yet 
life  I  is  filled  \  with  their  presence.  They  are  with  us 
by  the  silent  fireside  \  and  in  the  secluded  chdmber. 
They  are  with  us  |  in  the  paths  of  society,  and  in  the 
crowded  assemblies. of  mhi. 

2.  They  speak  to  us  1  from  the  lonely  way-side;  and 
they'  speak  to  us  |  from  the  venerable  wdlls  |  that  echo 
to  the  steps  of  a  multitude  |  and  to  the  voice  of  prdyer. 
Go  where  we  will,  the  d^d  \  are  trith  us.  We  l)ve,  we 
converse  with  those  |  who  once  lived  |  and  conversed  | 
with  its.  Their  well-remembered  tone  |  mingles  ^vith  the 
whispering  br^ze,  with  the  sound  of  the  falling  Idaf, 
with  the  jubilee  shout  |  of  the  5pr/w<7-time. — The  ^nrth 
I  is  filled  I  with  their  shadowy  tr^. 


314  SCHOOL   ELOCUTION. 

3.  But  there  are  more  suhstdntial  expressions  |  of  the 
presence  of  the  d^ad  \  with  the  Uving.  The  earth  |  is 
filled  with  the  lahorSy  the  worksj  of  the  d^ad.  Almost 
all  the  literature  in  the  w6rld,  the  discoveries  of  science^ 
the  glories  of  art,  tlie  ever-enduring  temples,  the  dwelling- 
places  of  generations,  the  comfoi-ts  and  improvements  of 
life,  the  languages,  the  maxims,  the  Spinions  of  the  living, 
the  very  frame-work  of  society,  the  institutions  of  ndtions, 
the  fabrics  of  impires — all  j  are  the  works  of  the  dk(vl 
By  these,  they  |  who  are  dead  |  yet  spkah       obtuli  dewk, 


8.    GRATTAN^S  REPLY  TO  MR.   CORRY. 
[An  example  of  impassioned  sarcasm  and  invective. '\ 

1.  Has  the  gentleman  donef  Has  he  completely  d6ne? 
He  was  unparliamentary  from  the  beginning  to  the  ^nd 
of  his  speech.  There  was  scarce  a  word  he  uttered  that 
was  not  a  violation  of  the  privileges  of  the  House.  But 
I  did  not  call  him  to  order, — why?  because  the  limited 
talents  of  some  men  render  it  impossible  for  them  to 
be  serf  re  without  being  unpai'liamentary.  But  before  I 
sit  down,  I  shiill  show  him  how  to  be  severe  dnd  pai-- 
liamentary  at  the  same  time. 

2.  The  right  honorable  gentleman  has  called  me  "an 
unimpeached  trditor."  I  ask  why  not  ^^  traitor,^  unquali- 
fied by  any  epithet?  I  will  tell  hiih:  it  was  because  he 
diXrst  not.  It  was  the  act  of  a  cmcard,  who  raises  his 
arm  to  strike,  but  has  not  courage  to  give  the  blow.  I 
•will  not  call  him  villain,  because  it  would  be  unparlia- 
mhitary,  and  he  is  a  privy  counselor.  I  will  not  call 
him  fool,  because  he  happens  to  be  chancellor  of  the 
exchequer.  But  I  say,  he  is  one  who  has  abused  the 
privilege  of  Parliament  and  the  freedom  of  debate,  by 
uttering  language  which,  if  spoken  out  of  the  House,  I 
shorJil  answer  only  with  a  blow.    I   care  not  how  high 


SCITOOT.    ET.OCUTION.  315 

liis  sifidition,  how  low  liis  character,  how  conUmptihle 
his  sjKrih ;  whether  a  jrrii'j/  counselor  or  a  pdrasite^  my 
answer  would  be  a  hUw. 

3.  I  have  reUinied, — not  as  the  right  honorable  mem- 
ber has  said,  to  raise  another  storm, — I  have  returned 
to  discharge  an  honorable  debt  of  gratitude  to  my 
country,  that  conferred  a  great  reward  for  past  services, 
which,  I  am  proud  to  say,  was  not  greater  than  my 
desert.  I  have  returned  to  protect  that  Constitution  of 
which  I  was  the  parent  and  founder,  from  the  assassi- 
ndtion  of  such  men  as  the  right  honorable  gentleman 
and  his  unworthy  associates.  They  are  corriXpt,  they  are 
seditious,  and  they,  at  this  very  moment,  are  in  a  con- 
spiracy against  their  c6untry.  I  have  returned  to  refute 
ft  libel,  as  false  as  it  is  maVicious,  given  to  the  public 
under  the  appellation  of  a  report  of  the  committee  of 
the  L6rds.  Here  I  stdnd,  ready  for  impeachment  or  trial. 
I  ddre  accusation.  I  defjj  the  honoi*able  gentleman;  I 
lefy  the  government;  I  defy  their  whSte  phalanx;  let 
I  hem  come  forth.  I  tell  the  ministers,  I  will  neither 
f/ive  quarter  nor  tdke  it.  I  am  here  to  lay  the  shat- 
tered remains  of  my  constitution  on  the  floor  of  this 
Housf.  i"  'i.'t'.'iwo  oP  <!>'»  r>h.}'tL'v  of  my  country. 


9.     SUPPOSED    SPEECH    OF    JOHN    ADAMS    IN 
SUPPORT  OF  AMERICVN  INDEPENDENCE. 

1.  Sink  or  sic\m,  lire  or  die,  survive  or  ph'ish,  I  give 
my  hand  and  my  heart  to  this  vote.  It  is  tnio,  indeed, 
that  in  the  beginning  we  aimed  not  at  Independence. 
But  there  *8  a  Divinity  which  shapes  our  ^-nds.  The 
injustice  of  England  has  driven  us  to  arms;  and,  blinded 
to  her  own  interest  for  our  go^xl,  she  has  obstinately 
]M'rsist«(lj  till  Independence  is  now  within  our  gn\sp. 
We  have  but  to  roach  f6rth  to  it,  "*vl  •*  •  -  •>""- 


316  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

2.  Why,  then,  should  we  defer  the  Declardtionf  1- 
any  man  so  weak  as  now  to  hope  for  a  reconcilidtion 
with  England?  Do  we  mean  to  submit  to  the  measures 
of  Parliament,  Boston  port-bill  and  ^?  I  know  we  (1<> 
iiot  mean  to  submit.    We  never  shall  submit. 

3.  Sir,  the  Declaration  will  inspire  the  people  witli 
increased  courage.  Instead  of  a  long  and  bloody  war 
for  restoration  of  privileges,  for  redress  of  grievances, 
for  chartered  immunities,  held  under  a  British  king,  set 
before  them  the  glorious  object  of  entire  Indephulence^ 
and  it  >vill  breathe  into  them  anew  the  breath  of  life. 

4.  Read  this  Declaration  at  the  head  of  the  drmy: 
every  sword  will  be  drawn  from  it«  scabbard,  and  the 
solemn  vow  uttered,  to  nuiintaiu  it,  or  to  j)erish  on  the 
field  of  h6nor.  Publish  it  from  the  pulpit;  religion  will 
approve  it,  and  the  love  of  religious  liberty  will  cling 
round  it,  resolved  to  stand  with  it,  or  fall  with  it. 

5.  Send  it  to  the  public  hdlls;  proclaim  it  there.  L 
thSm  hear  it  who  heard  the  first  roar  of  the  enemtfs 
cdnnon;  let  thhn  see  it  who  saw  their  brothers  and  their 
sons  fall  on  the  field  of  Bunker  Hill,  aud  in  the  streets 
of  Lexington  and  C6ncord,  and  the  very  wdlls  will  cry 
out  ill  its  supp5rt. 

6.  Sir,  before  God,  I  believe  the  hour  is  come.  My 
judgment  approves  this  measure,  and  my  whole  hedrt  is 
In  it.  All  that  I  hdvCj  and  aU  that  I  am,  and  all  that 
I  hope,  in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  here  to  stake  upon 
it;  and  I  leave  off  as  I  beg^,  that  live  or  dle^  survi 
or  pMshy  I  am  for  the  Declardtion.  It  is  my  livin(/ 
sentiment,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  it  shall  be  my 
dying  sentiment:  Independence  n^w;  and  Independen 
forever.  danim.  "webster. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  317 

10.    THE  CONSTITUTION  AND   THE   UNION. 

[/n   this  speech   the  movement  is  slow;  the  uttcrann-  nrlihrnitr.  the 
tttses  long;  and  the  inflections  strongly  marked.} 

1.  For  nn/sf1fj  I  propose,  Sir,  to   abide   by  tlic  prln- 
'ples  I  and  the  purposes  \  which  I  have  avoiced.     I  shall 

stand  by  the  Union,  and  by  all  |  who  stand  hp  it.  I 
shall  do  justice  to  the  whole  country,  according  to  the 
.best  of  my  ability,  in  all  I  say,  and  act  for  the  (food  of 
the  whole  country  |  in  all  I  do.  I  mean  to  stand  upon 
the  Constitution.  I  need  no  6ther  platform.  I  shall  know 
but  6ne  country. 

2.  The  ends  I  aim  at  |  shall  be  my  country's,  my 
G6d?s,  and    Trutli's.     I  was   horn  \  an  American;   I  will 

•e  an  American;  I  shall  die  an  American;  and  I  intend 
M>  perform  the  duties  incumbent  upon  me  |  in  that 
iluiracter  |  to  the  end  of  my  carher.  I  mean  to  do  this, 
with  the  absolute  disregard  of  phsonal  consequences. 

3.  What  (ire  \  personal  consequences t  What  is  the 
individual  man,  with  all  the  good  or  evil  that  may  6c- 
Ude  him,  in  comparison  with  the  good  or  evil  |  which 
may  befall  a  great  country  \  in  a  crisis  like  this,  and  in 
the   midst   of   great   transdctions  \  which   concern   that 

mntry's  fdtef  Let  the  cSnsequences  \  be  what  they  wW. 
I  am  cdreless.  No  man  can  suffer  too  much,  and  no 
man  can  fall  too  soon,  if  he  suffer  |  or  if  he  fall  |  in 
defense  of  the  liberties  \  and  Constitution  \  of  his  country. 

Webster. 


11.    THE  CONSTITUTION. 

1.  Never  did  there  devolve  on  any  generation  of  men 
liigher  trusts  tlian  now  devolve  upon  us,  foj:  the  pres- 
ervation of  this  Constitution,  and  the  liarmony  and 
peace  of  ml  who  are  defined  to  live^imer  it.  Let  us 
make  duV  generation  one  of  the  strongest  and  brigntest 
links  in  that  golden  chain  wliicfi  is  destint'd.  T  fondly 


318  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

believe,  to  grapple  the  people  of  all  the  States  to  this 
Constitution  for  ages  to  come. 

2.  We  have  a  great,  popular,  constitutional  govern- 
in^t,  guarded  by  law  and  by  judicature,  and  defended 
by  the  affections  of  the  people.  No  monarchical  thi^ne 
presses  these  States  together.  T^y  live  and  stand  upon 
a  govg^-nment  popular  in  its  form,  representative  in  its 
char^cte;*,  founded  upon  principles  of  eqtfMity,  and  so 
constructed,  we  hope,  as  to  last  foreVer. 

3.  In  all  its  history  it  has  been  beneficent.  It  has 
trodden  down  no  man\s  libertv^  it  has  crushed  no  Sta^. 
Its  daily  respiration  is  liberty^  and  patrujbism.  Tt^ 
youthful  veins  are|ull  of  enterprise;  coui-age,  an^  he 
orable  love  of  glory  and  renoVn.  Large  before,  the 
country  has  now,  by  rec^t  events,  become  vastly  larger. 
This  republic  now  ext^ds,  with  a  vast  breadth,  across 
the  whole  co^tinbnt.  The  two  great  seas  of  the  world 
wash  the  one  and  the  other  sh(^.  We  realize  on  a 
mighty  scale  the  beautiful  description  of  the  ornamental 
edvfing  of  the  bucklers  of  Achules: 

"Now  the  broad  shield  complete,  the  artist  crowned 
With  his  last  haml,  and  poured  the  ocean  round. 
In  living  silver  seemed  the  ivaves  to  rml,  y 

And  beat  the  buckler's, verge  and  bound  the  whole." 

'  '        ■  '^  /     Djvjriai  WEBsrsn. 


12.     DUTIES  OF  AMERICAN   CITIZENS. 

1.  We  have  indulged  in  gratifying  recollections  of 
the  past,  in  the  prosperity  and  pleasures  of  the  present, 
and  in  high  hopes  for  the  future.  But  let  us  remember 
that  we  have  duties  and  obligations  to  perform,  corre- 
sponding to  the  blessings  which  we  enjoy. 

2.  Let  us  remember  the  trust,  the  sacred  trust,  attach- 
ing to  the  rich  inheritance  which  we  have  received  from 
our  fathers.     Let  us  feel  oui*  personal  responsibility,  to 


^J!^frr 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  319 

the  full  extent  of  our  power  and  influence,  for  the 
preservation  of  the  principles  of  civil  and  religious  lib- 
erty. And  let  us  remember  that  it  is  only  religion,  and 
morals,  and  knowledge,  that  can  make  men  respectaoie 
and  happy,  under  any  form  of  government. 

3.  Let  us  liold  fast  the  great  trutli,  that  communities 
are  responsible,  as  weU  as  individuals;  that  no  govern- 
ment is  respectable,  which  is  not  just;  that  without  un- 
spotted purity  of  public  faith,  Avithout  sacred  public  prin- 
ciple, fidelity,  and  honor,  no  mere  forms  of  government, 
no  machinery  of  laws,  can  give  dignity  to  political  society, 
[u  our  day  and  generation  let  us  seek  to  raise  and  im- 
prove the  moral  sentiment,  so  that  we  may  look,  not 
for  a  degraded,  but  for  an  eleyated  and  improved  future. 

4.  And  when  both  we  and  our  childi-en  shall  have 
been  consigned  to  the  house  ajjpointed  for  aU  living, 
may  love  of  country  and  pride  of  country  glow  \Wth 
(•(^ual  fervor  among  those  to  whom  our  names  and  our 
l)lood  shall  have  descended. 

5.  And  then,  when  honored  and  decrepit  age  shall 
U*an  against  the  base  of  this  monument,  and  troops  of 
ingenuous  youth  shall  be  gathered  round  it,  and  when 
the  one  shall  speak  to  the  other  of  its  objects,  the  pur- 
poses of  its  construction,  and  the  great  and  glorious 
events  with  which  it  is  connected,  there  shall  rise  from 
every  youthful  breast  the  ejaculation,  ^^  Thank  Qod,  I — 
[  also— am  an  American  I"  damiel  wk«bt»«. 


13.    LABOR. 

1.  L<ibor  1-  :.'. ,. .  ii's  great  ordinance  for  human  im- 
prbvement.  Let  not  the  great  ordinance  be  broken  dowt^. 
What  do  I  sdyt  It  h  broken  d^wn;  and  hds  been 
broken  down  for  ikges.  Let  it,  then,  be  huilt  again; 
hhty  if  dnywherey  on  the  shores  of  a  new  wdrld—ot  a 
new  dviludtion. 


320  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

2.  But  h6w,  it  may  be  disked,  is  it  broken  dawn  t  D' 
not  men  Uilt  it  may  be  84id.  They  do,  indeed,  toil: 
but  they  too  generally  d6,  because  they  mhst  Man} 
submit  to  it,  as  to,  in  some  s6rt,  a  degrading  nechsitij ^ 
and  they  desire  nothing  so  much  on  6arth  as  an  esccipe 
from  it.  This  way  of  thinking  is  the  heritage  of  th. 
absurd  and  unjust  feudal  system,  under  which  aerj - 
lAbored,  and  gentlemen  spent  their  li\:es  in  fighting  and 
pasting.  It  is  timo  that  this  opprobrium  of  toil  wer.' 
done  away. 

3.  Ashamed  to  toil!  Ashamed  of  thy  dingy  workshop 
and  dusty  M^/or-fleld ;  of  thy  hanl  hand,  scarred  with 
service  more  li()noral)le  than  that  of  war;  of  thy  soiled 
and  weather-stiiined  garments,  on  which  mother  Natur< 
has  embroidered  mist,  sun  and  rain,  ffrr  nnd  sff'rnn — 
her  own  heraldic  honors! 

4.  Ashamed  of  those  tokens  and  titles,  and  envious  of 
the  flaunting  robes  of  imbecile  idleness  and  vanity!  It 
is  treason  to  Nature;  it  is  impiety  to  Heaven:  it  is 
breaking  Heaven^s  great  ordinance.  Toil — toil — either  of 
the  brain,  of  the  heart,  or  of  the  hand — is  the  only  trup 
mdnhood,  the  only  true  nobility!  obvilli  dewby. 


14.    THE  FUTURE  OF  AMERICA. 

1.  It  cannot  be  denied,  but  by  those  who  would  dis- 
pute against  the  stin,  that  with  America,  and  in  America, 
a  new  era  commences  in  human  affairs.  This  ^ra  is 
distinguished  by  free  representative  governments,  by  en- 
tire religious  liberty,  by  improved  systems  of  national 
intercourse,  by  a  newly  awakened  and  an  unconquerable 
spirit  of  free  inquiry,  and  by  a  diffusion  of  knowledge 
through  the  community,  such  as  has  been  before  alto- 
gether unknown  and  unheard  of. 

2.  America,  America,  our  country,  our  own  dear  and 


SCHOOti   ELOCUTION.  321 

native  Idml,  is  inseparably  connected,  fast  b6und  up,  in 
♦'«')rtune  and  by  ftlte,  with  these  gr^at  Interests.    If  they 
'//,  w^  fall  with  them;  if  they  stdndj  it  will  be  because 
\\  c  have  upheld  them. 

3.  Let  us  contemplate,  then,  this  connection  which 
liinds  the  prosperity  of  Sthers  to  our  6xtm;  and  let  us 
manfully  discharge  all  the  duties  which  it  imposes.  If 
we  cherish  the  virtues  and  the  principles  of  our  fathers, 
Hkiven  will  assist  us  to  carry  on  the  work  of  human 
yfherty  and  human  hdppiness. 

4.  Auspicious  omens  chhr  us.  Great  examples  are 
before  us.  Our  own  finnament  now  shines  brightly  upon 
our  path.    Washington  is  in  the  clear  upper  sJcp.     Those 

'her  stars  have  now  joined  the  American  constelldtion ; 

11  icy  circle   round   their   center,  and   the  heavens  beam 

with  new  Ught.    Beneath  this  illumination,  let  us  walk 

iho  course  of  life,  and   at   its  cl6se  devoutly  commend 

ur  beloved  country,  the  common  parent  of  us  dll,  to 

\\Q  Divine  Benignity.  daniet.  webstkr. 


15.    PATRIOTISM. 

1.  Bereft  of  patriotism,  the  heart  of  a  nation  will  be 
•Id   and  cramped   and   sordid;    the  arts  will  have  no 

uduring  impulse,  and  commerce  no  inWgorating  soul; 

-ociety  will  degenerate,  and  the  mean  and  vicious  will 

iumph.    Patriotism  is  not  a  wild  and  glittering  passion, 

it  a  glorious  reality.    The  virtue  that  gave  to  Paganism 

«l:izzling  luster,  to  Barbarism  its  redeeming  trait,  to 

<  iiri.stianity  its  heroic  fonn,  is  not  dead.     It  still  lives 

lo  console,   to  sanctify  humanity.     It  has  its  altar  in 

every  clime;   its  worsliip  and  festivities. 

2.  On  the  heathered  hills  of  Scotland,  the  sword  of 
A'ullatie  is  yet  a  bright  tradition.  The  genius  of  France, 
i!L  the  brilliant  Uterature  of  the  day,   pays  its  high 


322  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

homage  to  the  piety  and  heroism  of  the  young  Maid 
of  Orleans.  In  her  new  Senate-hall,  England  bids  h(  r 
sculptor  place,  among  the  effigies  of  her  greatest  son- 
the  images  of  Hampden  and  of  Russell.  In  the  gn 
and  graceful  capital  of  Belgium,  the  daring  hand  ot 
Geefs  has  reared  a  monument  full  of  glorious  meanini: 
to  the  three  hundred  martjTS  of  the  revolution. 

3.  By  the  soft  blue  waters  of  Lake  Lucerne  stands 
the  chapel  of  William  Tell.  On  the  anniversary  of  his 
revolt  and  victory,  across  those  waters,  as  they  glitto 
in  the  July  sun,  skim  the  light  boats  of  the  allied  can- 
tons, from  the  prows  hang  the  banners  of  the  republic, 
and  as  they  near  the  sacred  spot,  the  daughters  of  Lu- 
cerne chant  the  hjTuns  of  their  old  poetic  land.  Then 
bursts  forth  the  glad  Te  Deum,  and  Heaven  again  hears 
the  voice  of  that  wild  chivalry  of  the  mountains,  which 
five  centuries  since  pierced  the  white  eagle  of  Viennn. 
and  flung  it  bleeding  on  the  rocks  of  Uri. 

T.  r.  Meaoiif.r. 


16.    THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY. 

1.  On  the  Fourth  of  July,  1776,  the  representatives 
of  the  United  States  of  America,  in  Congress  assembled, 
declared  that  these  United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right 
ought  to  be,  free  and  independent  States.  This  decla- 
ration, made  by  most  patriotic  and  resolute  men,  ti-ust- 
ing  in  the  justice  of  their  cause,  and  the  protection  of 
Providence — and  yet  not  without  deep  solicitude  and 
anxiety — has  stood  for  seventy-five  years,  and  still  stands. 

2.  It  was  sealed  in  blood.  It  has  met  dangers  and 
overcome  them;  it  has  had  enemies,  and  it  has  con- 
quered them;  it  has  had  detractors,  and  it  has  abashed 
them  all;  it  has  had  doubting  friends,  but  it  has  cleared 
all  doubts  away;  and  now,  to-day,  raising  its  august 
form  higher  than  the  clouds,  twenty  millions  of  people 


lontomplate  it  wiiii  iiaiiowrd  love;  and  tlio  world  beholds 
.1,  and  the  consequences  which  have  followed,  with  pro- 
found admiration. 

3.  This  anniversary  animates,  and  gladdens,  and  unites 
all  American  heaits.  On  other  days  of  the  year  we  may 
be  party  men,  indulging  in  controversies  more  or  less 
important  to  the  public  goodj   we  may  have  likes  and 

lislikes,  and  we  may  maintain  our  political  differences 
«>tten  with  warm,  and  sometimes  with  angry  feelings. 
But  to-day  we  are  Americans  all  in  all,  nothing  but 
Americans. 

4.  As  the  great  luminary  over  our  heads,  dissipating 
mists  and  fogs,  cheers  the  whole  hemisphere,  so  do  the 
associations  connected  with  this  day  disperse  all  cloudy 
and  sullen  weather,  and  all  noxious  exhalations  in  the 
minds  and  feelings  of  true  Americans.  Every  man's 
lieart  swells  within  him; — every  man's  port  and  bearing 
become  somewhat  more  proud  and  lofty,  as  he  remem- 
bers that  seventy-five  years  have  rolled  away,  and  that 
the  great  inheritance  of  liberty  is  still  his;  his,  undi- 
minisheil  and  unimpaired;  his,  m  all  its  original  glory^ 
his  to  enjoy,  his  to  protect,  and  his  to  transmit  to  future 
generations.  Dakiu.  webotm. 


17.    TRUE  GREATNESS. 

1.  Tlie  poet  tells  us,  in  pathetic  cadence,  that 

'*Tho  paths  oif  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." 
Hut  this  is  true  only  in  the  superficial  sense.  It  is 
true  that  the  ftimous  and  the  obscure^  the  devoted  and 
the  ignoble^  "alike  await  the  inevitable  hdur.^  But  the 
path  of  true  glor>^  does  not  ^nd  in  the  gr()i'e.  It  passes 
through  it  to  larger  opportunities  of  service. 

2.  A  great  nature  is  a  seed.     "It  is  sown  a  natural 
bo<1y;  it  is  raised  a  sph->'""^  iw^i,.  •'    jf  prcnjiiiiates  thus 


324  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

in  tMs  world  as  well  as  in  the  other.  Was  "Warren 
buried  when  he  fell  on  the  field  of  a  defeat^  pierced 
tlirough  the  hrdin,  at  the  commencement  of  the  Revo- 
lution, by  a  MUei  that  put  the  land  in  mdurningf 

3.  No;  the  monument  that  ha§  been  raised  where  liis 
blood  reddened  the  sod — granite  though  it  be  in  a  hun- 
dred courses — is  a  feeble  "^ntness  of  the  permanence  and 
influence  of  Ms  spirit  among  the  American  people.  He 
mounted  into  literature  from  tlie  moment  that  he  fkll; 
he  begati  to  move  the  soul  of  a  great  community;  and 
part  of  the  principle  and  enthusiasm  of  Massachusetts 
to-diiy  is  due  to  his  sacrifice,  to  the  presence  of  his  spirit 
as  a  pdwer  in  the  life  of  the  Stiite. 

4.  Did  Montgomery  lose  his  influence  as  a  force  in 
the  Revolution,  because  he  died  without  victory  on  its 
thrhhold,  pierced  with  three  wounds,  before  Quebec  f 
Philadelphia  was  in  tears  for  him;  his  eulogies  were 
uttered  by  the  most  eloquent  tongues  of  America  and 
Britain,  and  a  thrill  of  his  power  beats  in  the  volumes 
of  our  histor}^,  and  runs  yet  through  the  onset  of  every 
Irish  brigade  beneath  the  Anioriean  banner,  which  he 
planted  on  Montreal, 

5.  Did  Lawrence  die  when  his  In-cath  expired  in  the 
defeat  on  the  sea,  after  his  exclamation,  "Don't  give 
up  the  shipP^  AVluit  \  i -torious  captain  in  that  naval 
war  shed  forth  such  power?  His  spirit  soared  and 
touched  every  flag  on  every  frigate,  to  make  its  red  more 
commanding  and  its  stars  flame  brighter;  it  went  abroad 
in  songs,  and  every  sailor  felt  him  and  feels  him  now  .i 
an  inspiration. 

6.  The  soul  is  not  a  shadow.  The  body  is.  Genius  is 
not  a  shadow;  it  is  siibstance.  Patriotism  is  not  a  shddoiv; 
it  is  light.  Great  purposes,  and  the  spirit  that  counts 
d^ath  nothing  in  contrast  with  honor  and  the  welfare  of 
our  country — these  are  the  witnesses  that  man  is  not  a 
passing  vapor,  but  an  immortal  spirit.        tuomas  Starx  king 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  325 

1^     THE  NORMANS. 

1.  In  lOCG,  the  Normans  invaded  England,  and  the 
batth'  of  Hastings  broke,  forever,  the  Saxon  and  Danish 
jMiwcr.  But  years  passed,  and  several  monarchs  filled 
and  vacated  the  English  throne  before  these  Norman 
}>ioncers  had  accomplished  their  work,  and  molded  the 
nation  to  their  will. 

2.  They  were  warriors — not  reformers.  They  were 
greedy  of  power,  but  impatient  of  its  exercise  upon 
themselves;  greedy  of  wciilth,  but  la\ish  in  its  expend- 
iture. They  were  reckless  alike  of  their  own  and  the 
life  of  othei*s.  Turbulent,  unruly  —  equally  dangerous 
to  the  people  whom  they  subdued,  and  to  the  princes 
who  led  them  to  conquest.  Gallant  men,  full  of  deeds 
of  knightly  courtesy,  yet  reddening  their  hands  with 
the  blood  of  civil  broil,  and  ever  ready  to  maintain 
their  right  with  their  swords. 

3.  Men  of  clear  intellect  and  giant  will,  they  acknowl- 
<'dged  an  uncertain  allegiance  to  their  king,  and  only 
))owed  their  necks  to  the  yoke  of  God,  when  at  the 
•  lose  of  life  they  deemed  it  necessary  to  assume  the 
monastic  habit,  or  to  do  penance  of  their  goods  for  the 
salvation  of  their  souls. 

4.  From  these  stern  and  bloody  men,  "who  came  in 
with  the  Conqueror,"  or  followed  in  the  train  of  his 
successors,  the  noblest  families  of  England  are  proud 
to  derive  their  descent;  and  even  we  republicans,  upon 
this  distant  coast,  and  at  this  late  period  of  time,  do 
not  refuse  our  admiration  to  these  Norman  pioneers, 
who,  through  the  mists  of  the  past,  loom  up  like  giants 
before  us. 

5.  Yet  our  admiration  of  these  old  warriors,  the  ad- 
miration of  the  world  for  them,  is  not  because  tliey 
shed  blood,  or  amassed  or  sciuandered  wealth,  or  swore 
fealty  to  thdr  kings,  or  broke  tlieir  oaths  in  rebellion, 


326  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

or  committed  or  abstained  from  the  crimes  that  wer^ 
coimnon  to  their  age.  The  Nonnan  pioneers  are  enrolled 
in  history  among  the  most  illustrious  of  men,  because 
in  the  dark  and  troublous  times  in  which  they  lived,  in 
the  midst  of  confusion  and  blood,  with  strong  hands 
and  undaunted  hearts,  they  laid  deep  the  first  founda- 
tions of  English  liberty,  and  became  the  fathers  of  that 
system  of  common  law  which,  at  the  end  of  eight  hun- 
dred years,  is  the  protection  and  the  glory  of  jill  who 
speak  the  English  tongue.  vcy. 


19.    WASHINGTON'S  BIRTHDAY. 

1.  Inspiring  auspices,  this  day,  surround  us  and  cheer 
us.  It  is  the  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  Washington. 
We  should  know  this,  even  if  we  had  lost  our  calendars, 
for  we  should  be  reminded  of  it  by  the  shouts  of  joy 
and  gladness.  The  whole  atmosphere  is  redolent  of  his 
name;  hiUs  and  forests,  rocks  and  rivers,  echo  and  re- 
echo his  praises. 

2.  All  the  good,  whether  learned  or  unlearned,  high 
or  low,  rich  or  poor,  feel,  this  day,  that  there  is  one 
treasui-e  common  to  them  all,  and  that  is  the  fame  and 
character  of  Washington.  They  recount  his  deeds,  pon- 
der over  liis  principles  and  teachings,  and  resolve  to  be 
more  and  more  guided  by  them  in  the  future. 

3.  To  the  old  and  the  young,  to  all  bom  in  the  land, 
and  to  all  whose  love  of  liberty  has  brought  them  from 
foreign  shores  to  make  this  the  home  of  their  adoption, 
the  name  of  Washington  is  this  day  an  exhilarating 
theme.  Americans  by  birth  are  proud  of  his  character, 
and  exiles  from  foreign  shores  are  eager  to  participate 
in  admiration  of  him;  and  it  is  true  that  he  is  this 
day,  here,  everywliere,  all  the  world  over,  more  an  object 
of  love  and  regiird  than  on  any  day  since  his  birth. 


send  Ml.     l^LoCL'TloN.  327 

4.  On  Wa^iiiiii^ioii  >  |»rinciples,  and  under  the  guid- 
ance of  liis  example,  ^vill  we  and  our  cliildren  uphold 
the  Constitution.  Under  his  military  leadership  our 
fathers  conquered;  and  under  the  outspread  l?anner  of 
his  political  and  constitutional  principles  will  we  also 
conquer. 

5.  To  that  standard  we  shall  adhere,  and  uphold  it 
tlirough  evil  report  and  through  good  report.  We  will 
meet  danger,  we  will  meet  death,  if  they  come,  in  its 
protection;  and  we  will  struggle  on,  in  daylight  and  in 
<larkness,  ay,  in  the  thickest  darkness,  with  all  the 
storms  which  it  may  bring  with  it,  till 

"Danger's  troubled  night  is  o'er, 
And  the  star  of  Peace  return."  Webstir. 


20.     NATIONS   AND   HUMANITY. 

1.  It  was  not  his  olive  vall<?ys  and  orange  groves 
which  made  the  Orhce  of  the  Greek.  It  was  not  for 
his  apple  orchards  or  potato  fields  that  the  farmer  of 
Xew  England  and  New  York  left  his  plow  in  the 
t  arrow  and  marched  to  Bunker  Hill,  to  Bennington,  to 
Saratoija.  A  man's  country  is  not  a  certain  area  of 
hhidy  but  it  is  a  principle;  and  patriotism  is  Uyalty  to 
that  principle.  The  secret  sanctiftcation  of  the  soil  and 
symVM)l  of  a  country  is  the  ich'a  which  they  represhit; 
and  thh  idea  the  patiiot  worships  through  the  name 
and  tlie  symbol, 

2.  So  with  passionate  hn-oism^  of  which  tnidition  is 
never  weary  of  tenderly  telling,  Arnold  von  Winkelreid 
gathers  into  his  bosom  the  sheaf  of  foreign  spears.  So, 
Nathan  Hiile^  disdaining  no  service  that  duty  demands, 
perishes  untimely  with  no  other  friend  than  GM  and 
the  satisfied  sense  of  duty.  So,  through  all  history  from 
the   beginning,   a   noble    army   of  mart  ins   has    foiiu-ht 


328  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

fiercely^  and  fallen  hrdvehj,  for  that  unseen  mistress, 
their  country.  So,  tlirough  all  liistorj^  to  the  ^nd,  that 
array  must  still  march ^  and  fightj  and  fall. 

3.  But  countries  and  families  are  but  nurseries  and 
Influences.  A  man  is  a  father ,  a  brother j  a  German,  a 
Roman,  ^i  American;  but  Ixmeath  all  ^Af^e  relations, 
^6  «5  a  w^H.  The  end  of  his  human  destiny  is  not  to 
be  the  best  O^rman,  or  the  best  R6man,  or  the  best 
f&ther;  but  the  best  mdn  he  can  be.         oioboe  w.  cvetw. 


21.    CHARACTER  OF  WASHINGTON. 

1.  Sir,  it  matters  very  little  what  immediate  sp6t  may 
be  the  birthplace  of  such  a  man  as  Wdshington.  No 
people  can  claim,  no  country  can  appropriate  him.  The 
boon  of  Providence  to  the  human  race,  his  fame  is  eternity, 
and  his  residence  cr edition.  Though  it  was  the  defeat 
of  our  arms,  and  the  disgrace  of  our  policy,  I  almost 
bless  the  convulsion  in  which  he  had  his  origin.  If  the 
heavens  thundered,  and  the  earth  rocked,  yet,  when  the 
storm  passed,  how  pure  was  the  climate  that  it  cleared; 
how  bright,  in  the  brow  of  the  firmament^  was  the  planet 
which  it  revMed  to  us! 

2.  In  the  production  of  Washington,  it  does  really 
appear  as  if  Nature  was  endeavoring  to  improve  upon 
herself,  and  that  all  the  virtues  of  the  ancient  world 
were  but  so  many  studies  preparatory  to  the  patriot  of 
the  new.  Individual  instances  no  doubt  there  were — 
splendid  exemplifications  of  some  single  qualification. 
Csesar  was  merciful;  Scipio  was  continent;  Hannibal  was 
patient;  but  it  was  reserv^ed  for  Washington  to  blend 
them  all  in  one,  and,  like  the  lovely  masterpiece  of  the 
Grecian  ai-tist,  to  exhibit,  in  one  glow  of  associated 
beauty,  the  pride  of  every  model,  and  the  perfection  of 
every  mdster. 


SCITOOT.   kt.ocutkjn.  329 

3.  As  a  gvueral,  lie  inarsluded  the  li^asant  into  a  vet- 
tratij  and  supplied  by  dhcipline  the  absence  of  experience; 
as  a  statesman^  he  enlarged  the  policy  of  the  cabinet 
into  the  most  comprehensive  system  of  general  adv^n- 
tiige;  and  such  was  the  wisdom  of  his  inewSj  and  the 
pliilosophy  of  his  counsels,  that  to  the  soldier  and  the 
skUesman,  he  almost  added  the  character  of  the  sflge! 
A  conqaerar,  he  was  untainted  with  the  crime  of  hlbod; 
a  revolutionist  J  he  was  free  from  any  stain  of  treason; 
lor  aggression  commenced  the  contest,  and  his  country 
called  hun  to  the  command. 

4.  Liberty  unsheathed  his  sword,  necessity  stained,  vic- 
tory returned  it.  K  he  had  paused  here,  history  might 
have  doubted  what  station  to  assu/n  him;  whether  at 
the  head  of  her  citizens  or  her  soldiers,  her  heroes  or  her 
j  Kit  riots.  But  the  last  glorious  act  crowns  his  cari^er, 
and  banishes  all  hesitation.  WJio,  like  Washington,  after 
having  emancipated  a  hemisphere,  resigned  its  crown, 
and  preferred  the-  retirement  of  domestic  life  to  the 
adoration  of  a  land  he  might  be  almost  said  to  have 
credtedt  puilupb. 


22.    BUNKER-HILL  MONUMENT. 

1.  The  Bunker-Hill  monument  is  finished.  //-  /  -  it 
stdnds.  Fortunate  in  the  natural  eminence  on  which 
it  is  placed — higher,  hijinitehj  higher,  in  its  objects  and 
piiqwse,  it  rises  over  the  lAnd,  and  over  the  s^a;  and 
visible,  at  their  homes,  to  three  hundred  thousand  citi- 
zens of  Massachusetts — it  stands,  a  memorial  of  the 
pdst,  and  a  monitor  to  the  prhentj  and  all  succeeding 
generations. 

2.  I  have  spoken  of  the  loftiness  of  its  purpose.  If 
it  had  been  without  any  other  design  than  the  creation 
of  a  work  of  nrf,  the  granite  of  which  it  is  composed 


330  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

would  have  slept  in  its  native  bM.  It  Ms  a  purpose; 
and  (hat  purpose  gives  it  cMracter.  Thai  puq)ose 
enrobes  it  with  dignity  and  moral  grilndeur.  That  ivfll- 
known  purpose  it  is,  which  causes  us  to  look  up  to  it  witli 
a  feeUng  of  tiwe.     It  is  itself  the  orator  of  this  occasion. 

3.  It  is  not  from  my  lips,  it  is  not  from  any  human 
lips,  that  that  strain  of  eloquence  is  this  day  to  fl6w, 
most  comi>etent  to  move  and  excite  the  vast  multitudes 
iiround.  The  potent  speaker  stands  motionless  before 
them.  It  is  a  plain  shd/t  It  bears  no  inscriptions, 
fronting  to  the  rising  sim,  from  which  the  future  anti- 
quarian shall  wipe  the  diist.  Nor  does  the  rising  sun 
cause  tones  of  miisic  to  issue  from  its  siimmit.  But 
at  th(;  rising  of  the  sun,  and  at  the  shtting  of  the  sun, 
in  the  blaze  of  tiooii-day,  and  beneath  the  milder  efful- 
irence  of  liinar  light,  it  IbokSj  it  speaks,  it  (lets,  to  the 
full  comprehension  of  ever}'  American  mind,  and  the 
awakening  of  glowing  enthusiasm  in  every  ATiiorican 
he^. 

4.  Its  silent,  but  awful  utterance;  its  deep  pathos,  as 
it  brings  to  our  contemplation  the  17th  of  June,  1775, 
and  the  consequences  which  have  resulted  to  us,  to  our 
country,  and  to  the  world,  from  the  events  of  that  day, 
and  which  we  know  must  continue  to  rain  influence  on 
the  destinies  of  mankind  to  the  end  of  time;  the  eleva- 
tion with  which  it  raises  us  high  above  the  ordinary 
feelings  of  life — surpass  all  that  the  study  of  the  closet, 
or  even  the  inspiration  of  genius  can  produce. 

5.  To-day,  it  speaks  to  us.  Its  future  auditories  will 
be  through  successive  generations  of  men,  as  they  rise 
up  before  it,  and  gather  rdund  it.  Its  speech  will  be  of 
patriotism  and  courage;  of  civil  and  religious  Uberty; 
of  free  government;  of  the  moral  improvement  and  ele- 
vation of  mankind;  and  of  the  immortal  memory  of 
those  who,  with  heroic  devotion,  have  sacrificed  their 
lives  for  their  country.  Daniel  websteb. 


>.    iM  M  ,  ,,     ,.  ,,.  M    I'TTON.  331 

J:;.    THE  BIRTHDAY  OF  WASHINGTON. 

1.  The  birtliday  of  the  "  Father  of  his  Country" !  May 
it  ever  be  freshly  remembered  by  American  hearts! 
May  it  ever  re-awaken  in  them  a  filial  veneration  for 
his  memory;  ever  rekindle  the  fires  of  patriotic  regard 
for  the  country  which  he  loved  so  weU,  to  which  he 
gave  his  youthful  vigor  and  his  youthful  energy,  during 
the  perilous  period  of  the  early  Indian  warfare ;  to  which 
he  devoted  his  life  in  the  maturity  of  his  powers,  in  the 
field;  to  which  again  he  offered  the  counsels  of  his  wis- 
dom and  his  experience,  as  president  of  the  convention 
that  framed  our  Constitution;  which  he  guided  and 
directed  while  in  the  chair  of  state,  and  for  which  the 
last  prayer  of  his  earthly  supphcation  was  offered  up, 
when  it  came  the  moment  for  him  so  well,  and  so 
grandly,  and  so  calmly,  to  die. 

2.  He  was  the  first  man  of  the  time  in  which  he  grew. 
His  memory  is  fii^st  and  most  sacred  in  our  love,  and 
ever  hereafter,  till  the  last  drop  of  blood  shall  freeze  in 
the  last  American  heart,  his  name  shall  be  a  speU  of 
power  and  of  might. 

3.  Yes,  gentlemen,  there  is  one  personal,  one  vast 
fehcity,  which  no  man  can  share  with  him.  I^  was  the 
daily  beauty,  and  towering  and  matchless  glory  of  his 
life  which  enabled  him  to  create  his  country,  and  at  the 
same  time  secure  an  undying  love  and  regard  from 
the  whole  American  people.  "The  first  in  the  hearts 
of  his  coimtrjmen ! "  Yes,  first !  He  has  our  first,  and 
most  ferN'ent  love. 

4.  Undoubtedly  tlierc  were  brave  and  wise  and  good 
men,  before  his  day,  in  every  colony.  But  the  Amer- 
ican nation,  as  a  nation,  I  do  not  reckon  to  have  begun 
before  1774.  And  the  first  love  of  that  Young  America 
was  Washington.     The  first  word   she   lisped  was  his 

jf,.v  ,  ..li  -t    »  ".ath   spoke  it.     It  still  is  her 


332  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

proud  ejaculation;  and  it  will  be  the  last  gasp  of  her 
expiring  life! 

5.  Yes;  others  of  our  great  men  have  been  appre- 
ciated— many  a<lmired  by  all ;  but  him  we  love ;  him  we 
all  love.  About  and  around  him  we  call  up  no  dissen- 
tient and  discordant  and  dissatisfied  elements — ^no  sec- 
tional prejudice  nor  bitis — no  party,  no  creed,  no  dogma 
of  politics.  None  of  these  shall  assail  him.  Yes;  when 
the  storm  of  battle  blows  darkest  and  rages  highest,  the 
memory  of  Washington  shall  nerv^e  every  American 
arm,  and  cheer  every  American  heart.  bvfct  cmoate. 


24.    THE  NATIONAL  CLOCK. 

1.  Every  nation  is  like  a  clockj  the  forces  at  work 
within  carrj-ing  forward  some  purpose  or  plan  of  Prov- 
idence with  patient  constancy;  but  when  the  season 
comes  that  the  sixtieth  minute  is  due,  and  a  new  hour 
must  be  s6unded,  perhaps  not  for  the  vat  ion  alone,  but 
for  the  xcorldj  then — then  the  clock  strikeSj  and  it  may 
be  with  a  force  and  rhonance  that  startles  and  inspires 
the  rj\ce. 

2.  The  first  American  revolution  was  such  a  period — 
that  was  the  glory  of  it.  The  English  Oovernment  had 
oppressed  our  fcWiers.  It  tried  to  break  their  spirit. 
For  several  years  it  was  a  darJc  thne^  like  the  hours 
before  the  striking  of  the  diticn. 

3.  But  the  Colonial  time-piece  kept  ticl'ing,  ticTiing  to 
the  pressure  of  the  English  Government,  the  giant 
wheels  playing  calmly  till  about  1775',  when  there  was 
a  strange  stir  and  hiizz  within  the  case.  The  people 
could  not  bear  any  more  of  it.  But  the  sixtieth  mmute 
came,  and  the  clock  strilch. 

4.  The  world  heard — the  battle  of  Lexington — one ;  the 
Declaration  of  Independence — tivd;  the  surrender  of  Bur- 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  333 

g6ij»e — thrh;   the  siege  of   Yorktown—four;   the  Treaty 
of  l\iris^-fh'e ;   the  inauguration  of  Washington — s}x. 
5.  And  then  it  was  sunrise  of  the  n^w  ddtfy  of  which 

^^'o  liavc  scon  yot  only  the  glorious  forenoon. 

TUOXAfl  Staeb  KUfO. 


25.    FREE  SCHOOLS. 

1.  It  is  impossible  for  us  adequately  to  conceive  the 
boldness  of  the  measure  which  aimed  at  universal  edu- 
cation through  the  establishment  of  Free  Schools.  As 
a  fact,  it  had  no  precedent  in  the  world's  history;  and, 
as  a  theory,  it  could  have  been  refuted  and  silenced  by 
a  niflre  formidable  array  of  argument  and  experience 
than  was  ever  marshaled  against  any  other  institution 
of  human  origin. 

2.  But  time  has  ratified  its  soundness.  Two  centuries 
of  successful  operation  now  proclaim  it  to  be  as  wise 
as  it  was  courageous,  and  as  beneficent  as  it  was  disin- 
terested. Every  community  in  the  civilized  world  awards 
it  the  meed  of  praise,  and  States  at  home,  and  nations 
abroad,  in  the  order  of  their  intelligence,  are  copying 
tlic  briirht  example. 

W'liat  we  call  the  enlightened  nations  of  Christen- 
dom are  approaching,  by  slow  degrees,  to  the  moral 
elevation  which  our  ancestors  reached  at  a  single  bound; 
and  the  tardy  convictions  of  the  one  have  been  assimi- 
lating, throu<rh  :»  pf^iod  of  two  ff'utnrios.  to  th(»  intuitions 
of  the  other. 

4.  The  estubli.shment  of  Free  Schools  was  our  <>i"  ilioso 
grand  mental  and  moral  experiments  who:<.'  (tVccts  could 
not  be  developed  and  made  manifest  in  a  single  genera- 
tion. But  now,  according  to  the  manner  in  which  human 
life  is  computed,  we  are  the  sixth  generation  from  its 
founders;  and  have  wo  not  reason  to  be  grateful,  both 
to  God  and  mnT^  ^'"-  i^^  ^innumbered  blessings t     The 


334  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

sincerity  of  our  gratitude  must  be  tested  by  our  efforts 
to  perpetuate  and  to  improve  what  they  established. 
The  gratitude  of  tliM  Ihw  nnlv  is  an  unholy  offering. 

HOKACK  MaXX. 


26.    THE  BALLOT. 

1.  Consider,  for  a  moment,  what  it  is  to  cdst  a  vdte. 
Tt  is  the  token  of  inestimable  privileges,  and  involves 
the  responsibilities  of  an  hereditary  triist.  It  has  passed 
into  your  hands  as  a  rtght,  reaped  from  fields  of  suffer- 
ing and  bl6od. 

2.  The  grandeur  oj  ;......-/  is  represented  in  your-^t. 

Men  have  wrought  with  pen  and  tongue^  and  pined  in 
dungeons,  and  died  on  scaffolds,  that  you  might  obtain 
this  symbol  of  freedom,  and  enjoy  this  consciousness  of 
a  sdcred  individHalitg.  To  the  ballot  have  been  trans- 
mitted, as  it  w^re,  the  dignity  of  the  sceptre  and  the 
potency  of  the  swdrd. 

3.  And  that  which  is  so  potent  as  a  right,  is  also 
pregnant  as  a  duty;  a  duty  for  the  jyresent  and  for  the 
future.  If  you  will,  that  folded  leaf  becomes  a  tongue 
of  justice,  a  voice  of  order,  a  force  of  imperial  Idw — 
securing  Hghts,  abolishing  abuses,  erecting  new  institu- 
tions of  truth  and  love.  And,  however  you  tvill,  it  is 
the  expression  of  a  solemn  responsibility,  the  ixerclne  of 
an  immeasurable  power  for  good  or  for  evil,  now  and 
hereafter. 

4.  It  is  the  medium  through  which  you  act  upon 
your  c6untry — the  organic  nerve  which  incorporates  you 
with  its  life  and  welfare.  There  is  no  agent  with  which 
the  possibilities  of  the  republic  are  more  intimately  in- 
volved, none  upon  which  we  can  fall  back  with  more 
confidence  than  the  ballot-hox.  e.  h.  chapin. 


X. 


'7     EDUCATIONAL  POWER. 

1.  Tlie  true  teacher  must  have  the  faith  of  martyrs. 
In  the  limited  horizon  of  the  school-room,  the  teacher 
can  dimly  see  only  the  beginning  of  the  effects  of  his 
training  upon  his  pupils.  The  solid  and  lasting  results, 
the  building  up  of  character,  the  creative  power  of 
motives,  are  made  evident  only  in  the  wider  circle  of 
the  world,  and  at  the  end  of  a  life-time.  Hence  the 
power  of  the  teacher,  like  that  of  the  sUent  and  invis- 
ible forces  of  nature,  is  only  feebly  realized. 

2.  I  once  visited,  in  the  Sierra,  a  quartz  mine  of 
fabidous  richness.  Deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
swarthy  miners  were  blasting  out  the  gold-bearing  rock; 
above,  the  powerful  miU  was  crushing  the  quartz  with 
its  iron  teeth.  In  the  office,  piles  of  yellow  bars,  ready 
to  be  sent  to  the  mint  to  be  poured  into  the  channels 
of  trade,  showed  the  immediate  returns  of  well-directed 
labor  and  wisely  invested  capital.  An  hour  later,  I 
stepped  into  a  public  school-house  not  half  a  mile  distant, 
where  fifty  children  were  conning  their  lessons.  What 
does  the  scliool  yield,  I  asked  myself,  on  the  invest- 
ment of  money  by  the  State?  The  returns  of  the  mine 
were  made  in  sohd  bullion  j  the  school  returns  were  all 
far  in  tlie  unknown  future. 

3.  I  crossed  the  continent  from  the  Pacific  to  the 
Atlantic  on  the  grandest  commercial  highway  ever  built, 
and  all  along,  towns,  lallages,  cities,  mines,  farms,  macliine 
shops,  manufactories,  and  converging  roads  bore  evidence 
of  the  miglity  physical  fon*es  of  the  nation;  and  when  I 
entered  a  meeting  of  the  National  Educational  Association 
in  a  Boston  Bchool-hoase,  where  two  hundred  thoughtful 
men  and  women  were  assembled,  it  seemed,  aft-er  wit- 
nessing the  gigantic  play  of  industriid  and  cominertnal 
forces,  that  the  school-masters  and  school-mistresses  were 
i<w.i'4'»*-:-'»«»  -"wi  niL-vc  Ml  i^^.^  I'^^'fUng  Ufo  aTOund. 


386  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

4.  But  when,  in  the  mild  summer  evening,  I  walked 
under  the  elms  of  Boston  Common  and  reflected  that 
independence  was  once  only  a  dim  idea  in  the  minds  of 
a  few  leading  patriots;  that  tlie  engine  which  had  whirled 
me  over  the  iron  track,  three  thousand  miles  in  seven 
days,  was  once  only  an  idea  in  the  brain  of  an  enthu- 
siast; that  the  telegraph  wires,  radiating  like  nerves 
from  the  centers  of  civilization,  were  created  by  the  in- 
ventive genius  of  an  educated  thinker,  I  realized  that 
there  is  a  silent  power,  mightier  than  all  mechanical 
forces,  which  preserves,  directs,  and  controls  the  material 
prosperity  of  a  great  nation. 

5.  I  go  out  into  the  streets  of  the  great  commercial 
center  of  our  country.  I  hear  everywhere  the  hum  of 
industiy,  and  see  around  the  stir  of  business.  I  see  the 
steamships  phnng  like  gigantic  shuttles  to  weave  a  net- 
work of  commercial  relations  between  the  new  world 
and  the  old.  I  see  the  smoke  of  manufactories  where 
skiUful  artisans  are  constructing  the  marvelous  produc- 
tions of  inventive  genius.  The  banlis  are  open;  keen 
capitalists  are  on  'Change;  and  the  full  tide  of  human- 
ity is  pulsating  through  every  artery  of  the  town.  The 
residts  of  business  are  solid  and  tangible.  I  step  into 
the  New  York  Normal  CoUege  where  a  thousand  young 
women  are  fitting  for  the  profession  of  teaching,  and  if 
asked  for  the  tangible  results  of  the  educational  invest- 
ment, the  evidences  are  not  at  hand. 

6.  But  when  I  pause  to  consider  that  intelligence  is  the 
motive  power  of  trade;  that  the  city  with  its  banks,  ware- 
houses, churches,  residences,  and  manufactories,  is  the 
product  of  skilled  labor;  that  the  steamship  is  navigated 
by  means  of  science,  and  is  built  as  a  triumph  of  art :  that 
science  surs-eyed  the  railroad  lines,  and  that  skill  runs 
the  trains  freighted  with  the  products  of  industrj^  and 
art;  then  I  begin  to  perceive  some  connection  between 
educational  forces  and  the  material  results  of  civilization. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  337 

28.     SCHOOLS   AND   TEACHERS. 

1.  Looking  into  the  near  future,  I  see  the  aisles  of 
the  school-room  widen  into  the  broad  streets  of  the  city. 
The  boys  are  business  men.  One  commands  the  steam- 
ship, one  operates  the  telegraph,  and  another  runs  an  en- 
gine; one  is  a  railroad  director,  and  another  rides  over 
the  road  to  take  his  seat  in  the  senate  of  the  United 
States.  One  works  a  gold  mine,  another  an  iron  mine, 
and  another  a  coal  mine;  one  is  a  merchant,  one  a  banker, 
one  a  Wall-street  speculator;  one  is  a  farmer  in  the 
west,  another  a  manufacturer  in  the  east;  one  is  a  mer- 
chant, another  a  mechanic,  and  a  third  is  an  inventor. 

2.  The  girls  have  become  women.  Some  preside  as 
queens  in  home  circles,  some  are  teachers,  some  are 
wTiters,  some  are  artists,  and  others  are  skilled  in 
household  work.  I  realize  that  the  life  of  a  nation  is 
made  up  of  mothers  that  guard  the  homes  of  the  men 
who  drive  the  plow,  build  the  ships,  run  the  mills,  work 
the  mines,  construct  machinery',  print  the  papers,  shoulder 
the  musket,  and  cast  the  ballots;  and  it  is  for  all  these 
that  the  public  schools  have  done  and  are  now  doing 
their  beneficent  work. 

3.  When  I  ponder  over  the  far-reaching  influence  of 
the  teacher  and  the  school,  I  comprehend,  in  some 
measure,  the  relation  to  our  national  well-being,  of  our 
American  system  of  free  public  schools — the  best,  not- 
withstanding its  defects  and  shortcomings,  that  the 
world  has  ever  known.  It  is  the  duty  of  every  teacher 
to  strive  with  all  his  heart,  and  with  all  his  soul,  and 
with  all  his  mjght,  to  perfect  a  system  of  education 
which  shall  train  a  race  of  men  and  women  in  the  next 
generation,  that  shall  inherit,  with  the  boundless  re- 
sources of  our  favored  land,  something  of  the  energy, 
enteq)rist^  talent,  and  character  of  the  sturdy  pioneers 
who  settled  and  subdued  the  wilderness. 


888  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

4.  Only  timid  and  despairing  souls  are  frightened  into 
the  belief  that  the  foundations  of  society  are  breaking 
up  on  account  of  over-education  in  the  common  schools. 
Neither  representatives  of  the  Caste  of  Capital  nor  the 
Caste  of  Culture  can  convince  the  American  people  that 
vice,  crime,  idleness,  poverty,  and  social  discontent  are 
the  necessary  result  of  an  elementary  education  among 
the  workers  of  society.  No  demagogue,  with  specious 
statements,  can  lead  any  considerable  number  of  citizens 
to  regard  the  school-master  as  a  public  enemy. 

5.  The  free  common  school  is  the  Plymouth  Rock  of 
American  liberty.  If  the  system  of  free  schools,  as  now 
conducted  and  organized,  fails  to  meet  the  needs  of 
social  progress,  not  the  extent,  but  the  kind  and  qualityy 
of  education  must  be  changed.  Neither  high  school  nor 
university  must  be  lopped  off  from  our  free-school  system. 

6.  It  is  only  through  skilled  labor,  wisely  and  intelli- 
gently directed,  that  a  people  can  become  or  remain 
permanently  prosperous  and  happy;  it  is  only  by  means 
of  intelligent  and  educated  voters  that  liberty  can  be 
preserved;  and  it  is  only  by  means  of  a  more  complete 
education  among  all  classes  that  humanity  can  rise  to 
a  higher  tj'pe  of  social  evolution.  There  is  no  slavery 
so  oppressive  as  that  of  ignorance. 


29.     ELEMENTS    OF    THE    AjVIERICAN 
GOVERNMENT. 

1.  The  English  colonists  in  America,  generally  speak- 
ing, were  men  who  were  seeking  new  homes  in  a  new 
world.  They  brought  with  them  their  families  and  all 
that  was  most  dear  to  them.  Many  of  them  were  edu- 
cated men,  and  all  possessed  their  full  share,  according 
to  their  social  condition,  of  knowledge  and  attainments 
of  that  age. 


sf  TTooT,   r.T,<  * x.  339 

2.  The  distinctive  chamcteristic  of  their  settlement  is 
the  introduetiou  of  the  civilization  of  Europe  into  a 
wililemoss,  without  bringing  with  it  the  political  insti- 
tutions of  Europe.  The  arts,  sciences,  and  literature  of 
England  came  over  with  the  settlers.  That  great  por- 
tion of  the  common  law  which  regulates  the  social  and 
pei-sonal  rehitions  and  conduct  of  men,  came  also. 

3.  The  jury  came;  the  habeas  corpus  camej  the  te&- 
tanicntary  power  came;  and  the  law  of  inheritance  and 
descent  came  also,  except  that  part  of  it  which  recog- 
nizes the  rights  of  primogeniture,  which  either  did  not 
come  at  all,  or  soon  gave  way  to  tlie  rule  of  orpial  par- 
tition of  estates  among  children. 

4.  But  the  monarchy  did  not  come,  nor  the  aristocracy, 
nor  the  Church,  as  an  estate  of  the  realm.  Political 
institutions  were  to  be  framed  anew,  such  as  should  be 
adapted  to  the  state  of  things.  But  it  could  not  be 
doujtful  what  should  be  the  nature  and  character  of 
tliese  institutions.  A  general  social  equality  j^revailed 
among  the  settlers,  and  an  equality  of  political  rights 
seemed  the  natural,  if  not  the  necessary  consequence. 

Daniu  Webstke. 


340  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

SECTION  III. 
RECITATIONS  AND  READINGS:  POETRY, 

1.    THE  CROWDED  STREET. 

1.  Let  me  move  slowly  |  through  the  street, 
V  Filled  I  with  an  ever-shifting  trdin,    ^' 
^      Amid  the  sound  |  of  steps  that  beat  | 

The  murmuring  tcdlhs  \  like  dutuniv  rAhi. 

2.  How  fast  I  the  flitting  figures  |  come! 

The  mild,  the  fierce,  the  stony  fkce; 
Some  I  bright  with  thoughtless  stmles,  and  s6me 
Where  secret  t^urs  \  have  left  their  trace. 

3.  They  p&ss — ^to  toil,  to  strife,  to  rht; 

To  halls  I  in  which  the  f^ast  \  is  spr^dj 
To  chdmbers  |  where  the  funeral  gu^st  | 
In  silence  |  sits  |  beside  the  d^ad! 

4.  And  some  \  to  happy  homes  rep^, 

Wliere  chtldretij  pressing  cheek  to  cheek, 
With  mute  caresses  |  shall  declare  | 
The  tenderness  \  they  cannot  speak. 

5.  And  s6m€y  who  walk  in  calmness  here. 

Shall  shudder  when  they  reach  the  door  | 
\\Tiere  one  \  who  made  their  dwelling  d6ar, 
Its  flower,  its  light,  is  seen  no  more. 

6.  Youth,  with  pale  cheek  |  and  slender  frame, 

And  dreams  of  greatness  |  in  thine  eye! 
Goest  thou  to  build  an  early  name, 
Or  early  |  in  the  task  \tod}e? 


Keen  son  of  trMe,  with  eager  brow! 

Who  I  is  now  fluttering  |  in  thy  snare? 
Thy  golden  fortunes,  tower  they  now, 

Or  melt  \  the  glittering  spires  |  in  air? 


^'•TTOoL    ELOCUTION.  341 

8.  Who  I  or  liiis  crowd  |  to-night  |  shall  trciul  | 

The  dance  |  till  daylight  gleam  again? 
Who  I  sorrow  o'er  the  untimely  dead?      -^ 
Wh6  I  writhe  |  in  throes  ]  of  mortal  pdmt^ 

9.  S6me  \  famine-struck,  shall  think  how  lon^  | 

The  cold  |  dark  h6ui*s,  how  slow  |  the  light; 
And  some,  who  flaunt  amid  the  throng, 
Shall  hide  |  in  dens  of  shdme  \  to-night. 

10.  Each,  where  his  tasks  or  pleasures  cMl, 

They  p^,  and  heed  each  other  n6t. 
There  {s  \  who  heeds,  who  holds  them  All, 
In  His  large  love  \  and  boundless  thought. 

11.  These  struggling  tides  |  of  life  |  that  seem  \ 

In  way^vard,  aimless  course  to  tend. 
Are  ^dies  |  of  the  mu/hty  stream  \ 

That  rdlls  \  to  its  appointed  hid.  BRYA.vr. 


2.     THE  BUILDERS. 

1.  All  \  JUT  architects  of  Fdte, 

Working  |  in  these  waUs  of  Time; 

Some  I  with  massive  deeds  |  and  f/reaty 

Some  I  with  ornaments  |  of  rhyme. 

2.  Nothing  |  iiseless  is  (  or  Idw; 

Each  thing  |  in  itis  place  |  is  bht; 
And  what  sfems  \  but  idle  show  | 
Strengthens  |  and  su])ports  the  r^s^. 

■l   For  the  structure  \  that  we  rdise, 
Time  I  is  with  materials  |  filled; 
Our  to-days  |  and  yesterdays  ' 
Are  the  hldcks  \  with  whi' 

4.    Truly  shape  |  and  fashion  ///'>-  : 

T/f'Hve  no  yawning  giips  \  bclwctu; 


342  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Think  not,  because  no  man  «/€«, 
Such  things  |  will  remain  uns^. 

5.  In  the  elder  days  |  of  4rt, 

Builders  wrought  [with  givaioi  care  I 
Each  minute  |  and  unseen  pkrtj 
For  the  gods  are  herywhere. 

6.  Let  us  do  our  work  |  as  wUl, 

Both  the  unseen  \  and  the  shn; 
^ —  Make  the  house,  where  gods  |  may  dwell, 

Beautiful,  entire,  and  cl^an. 

7.  Else  our  lives  |  are  incomplete, 

Standing  ( in  these  walls  of  Time; 
Broken  stdirwaySf  where  the  feeti 
Stumble  |  as  they  seek  to  climb. 

«   8.    Build  to-day,  then,  strong  and  surey 
With  a  firm  I  and  ample  base, 
And  I  ascending  and  secure  | 
Shall  to-morrow  i  find  its  plAce. 

9.    Thus  alone  J  can  we  attain  | 

To  those  turrets,  where  the  eye  J 
Sees  the  world  |  as  one  vast  plain. 
And  one  boundless  reach  (  of  sky. 


3.    PSALM  OF  LIFE. 

1.  Tell  me  7wt  \  in  mournful  numbers, 

Life  I  is  but  an  empty  dream; 
For  the  soul  )  is  dead  \  that  si  limber?. 
And  things  i  are  not  |  what  they  sttm.. 

2.  Life  I  is  real!    Life  |  is  lamest!  ' 

And  the  grave  |  is  not  its  goal; 
Dust  i  thou  art,  to  dust  retiimest, 
Was  not  spoken  |  of  the  s5ul. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  343 

3.    Not  enjoyment,  and  not  sdrrow, 
Is  our  destined  end  or  w6y; 
But  to  dd  that  each  to-morrow  | 
Finds  us  farther  |  than  to-dky. 

1     Art  I  is  16ng,  and  Time  |  is  fluting, 

And  our  liearts,  though  stout  and  brave, 
Still,  like  muffled  drums,  are  beating  | 
Funeral  marches  |  to  the  gr^vc. 

').    In  the  world's  broad  field  of  bdttle, 
In  the  bivouac  of  Life, 
Be  not  like  dumb,  driven  cattle; — 
Be  a  hh'o  \  in  the  strife! 

6.  Trust  no  Future,  howe'er  pUasant ! 

Let  the  de^  Past  |  bUnj  its  dead ! 
Act — act  in  the  living  Present! 
Heart  withinj  and  G6d  |  o'erUad. 

7.  liives  of  great  men  |  all  remind  us  | 

We  can  make  ohr  lives  |  sublime, 
And,  deptirting,  leave  behind  us  | 
Foot-prints  |  on  the  sands  of  time. 

8.  Foot-prints,  that  perhaps  an6ther, 

Sailing  o'er  life's  solemn  main — 
A  forlorn  |  and  shipwrecked  br6ther— 
Seeing,  shall  take  Mart  again. 

9.  Let  us,  then,  be  up  and  doing, 

With  a  heart  |  for  tiny  fate; 
Still  achieving,  still  pursuing, 

Lrarii  to  labor  \  and  to  irdif.  i.n. ...■..«. 


344  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


4.    APOSTROPHE  TO  THE  OCEAN. 

[This  poem  is  to  he  read  with  slow  movement,  median  stress,  expul- 
ve  orotund  quality,  and  strotui  /f^vy.] 


Thei*e  is  a  pUasure  \  in  the  pathless  wdods. 
There  is  a  rapture  \  on  the  lonely  shdrCf 

There  is  society ^  where  none  intrudes y 
By  the  deep  s^ay  and  mhsic  in  its  r6ar. 

I  love  not  man  the  Ihs  \  but  nature  |  mdrCy 
From  these  our  interviews,  in  which  I  steal  | 

From  all  I  may  be,  or  have  been  bef6re, 
To  mingle  with  the  iiniversey  and  feel  | 

What  I  can  ne'er  exprhsy  yet  can  not  aU  conceal. 

2. 

Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean,  roll  I 
TeA  ^thousand  fleets  \  sweep  over  thee  in  viin. 

Man  I  marks  tiie  ^arth  with  rain — ^his  control  | 
Stops  with  the  shore; — upon  the  watery  2)ldin  \ 

The  wrScJkS  \  are  all  thy  deed,  nor  doth  remain  | 
A  shddow  of  mdn^s  ravage,  save  his  own, 

"When,  for  a  moment,  like  a  drop  of  rain, 
He  sinks  into  thy  depths  |  with  bubbling  groan — 

Without  a  grave,  unkneUed,  uncoffined,  and  unkn6wn. 

3. 

The  armaments  \  which  thunderstrike  the  waUs  | 
Of  rock-built  cities,  bidding  nations  quake,  | 

And  monarchs  \  tremble  in  their  capitals  j 
The  oak  leviathan,  whose  huge  ribs  make  | 

Their  clay  creator  |  (the  vain  title)  take  | 
Of  lord  of  thee,  and/j[arbiter  of  wdr^^ 

Tliese  I  are  thy  toys',  and,  as  the  snowy  fldlce, 
They  melt  into  thy  yeast  of  wdves,  which  mar 

Alike  I  the  Armada's  pride,  or  spoils  of  Trafalgdr. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  345 

4. 

Thy  shores  are  hnpires^  changed  in  all  save  tMe; — 
Assyria,  Greece,  R6me,  Cdrthage,  what  are  thPijf 

Thy  waters  |  wasj|eli  them  jas^^  |  while  they  were /r^V, 
And  many  a  tyrant  \  since;  their  shores  obey  | 

The  stranger  J  slave,  or  sdvage;  their  decay  | 
Has  dried  up  realms  to  dherts:  not  so  |  th6iij 

Unchangeable  \  save  to  thy  wild  waves'  play, 
Time  \  writes  no  wrhiMe  \  on  thine  azure  br6w: 

Such  as  creation^s  dawn  heh^d,  thou  rollest  ndw. 


Thou  glorious  mirror,  where  the  Almighty's  form 
OlMssrs  itself  in  thnpests;  in  all  time, 

C'iltn  or  convitlsed — in  breeze,  or  gale,  or  storm — 
Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime  | 


Dark  heaving;  boimdless,  endless,  ami 


>iitiniac 


The  image  of  eternity — the  throne  \ 
Of  the  Invisible;  even  from  out  thy  slime  \ 

The  monsters  of  the  dkp  \  are  made;  each  zone  | 
Obet/s  thee ;  thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless,  aldne. 

6. 

And  I  have  Idved  thee,  6cean !  and  my  joy  | 
Of  youthful  sports  |  was  on  thy  breast  to  be 

Borne,  like  thy  bubbles,  onward;  from  a  bdy  \ 
I  wantoned  with  thy  breakers — they  |  to  me  | 

Were  a  delight;  and,  if  the  freshening  s^a  | 
Made  them  a  terror,  'twas  a  pleasing  fearj 

For  I  was,  as  it  were,  a  child  of  th^e, 
And  trusted  to  thy  billows  |  far  and  n^ar, 

And  laid  my  hand  upon  thy  mdne-^as  do  I  hhre. 


346  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

5.    BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO. 

And  Belgium's  mpital  had  gathered  then 
Her  beauty  and  her  chlv(th*ijj  and  bright 

The  lamps  shone  o'er  fair  women  and  brave  mhi; 
A  thousand  hearts  beat  hkppily;   and  when 

Music  arose  with  its  voluptuous  swHl^ 
Soft  eyes  looked  love  to  eyes  which  sp(Mce  again, 

And  all  went  m^rry  as  a  mdrriage-he)!;— 
But  hush!  hdrk!  a  deep  sound  strikes  like  a  rising  hi^ll! 

Did  ye  not  h'n,   .i . — .\",    i  *vas  but  the  w(ndy  - 

Or  the  cdr  rattling  o'er  the  stony  street: 
On  with  the  ddnce!  let  joy  be  unconfined; 

No  sleep  till  iworw,  when  youth  and  pleasure  meet 
To  chase  the  glowing  hours  with  flying^  feet 

But  harl! — that  heavj^  sound  breaks  in  once  f nor e^ 
As  if  the  clouds  its  kcho  would  repeat; 

And  nearer,  clearer,  dmdlier  than  bef6re ! 
Arm  !  arm  !   it  is — it  is — the  cdnnon^s  opening  roar ! 

3. 

Ah!   then  and  there  was  hurrying  to  and  fro, 

And  gathering  tear&,  and  tremblings  of  distress. 
And  cheeks  all  pale,  which  but  an  hour  ag6 

Blushed  at  the  praise  of  their  own  loveliness; 
And  there  were  sudden  partings j  such  as  press 

The  Dfe  from  out  y^ung  hearts,  and  choking  sighs 
Which  ne'er  might  be  repeated;   who  could  guess 

If  ever  more  should  meet  those  mutual  eyeSj 
Since  upon  night  so  sweet  such  awful  morn  could  rise? 

4. 

And  there  was  mounting  in  hot  haste;   the  steedj 
The  mustering  squadron^  and  th'e  clattering  car, 


?rnooC  ELOCUTION.  347 

Went  pourinu:  forward  with  impetuous  speed, 

And  swiftly  forming  in  the  ranks  of  wkr; 
And  the  deep  thunder  peal  on  peal  afdrj 

And  n^aVj  the  beat  of  the  alarming  drtlm 
Roused  up  the  soldier  ere  the  morning  sfdr; 
While  thronged  the  citizens  with  terror  dumb, 
Or  whispering  with  wliite  lips:   "T/je  foe!     Thrtf  rmrirf 
they  come!" 

And  Ardennes  waves  above  them  her  gi*eon  Iraves, 

Dew  V  with  nature's  tear-drops,  as  they  pass, 
Orieciuf/y  if  aught  inanimate  e'er  grieves, 

Over  the  unreturning  brdve — aMs! — 
Ere  evening  to  be  trodden  like  the  grdsSj 

Which  now  beneath  them,  but  above  shall  grow 
In  its  next  verdure,  when  this  fiery  mass 

Of  living  vdlor^  rolling  on  the  /Je, 
And  burning  with  high  hope,  shall  moulder  cold  and  low. 

6. 
Last  nSon  beheld  them  full  of  lusty  life; 

Last  ^ve  in  Bcaufy^s  circle  proudly  gdy; 
The  midnight  brought  the  signal-sound  of  i>(n/e; 

The  morttj  the  marsluUing  in  drms — the  ddy^ 
Battlers  magnificently  stern  arrdy ! 

The  thunder-clouds  close  oVr  it,  which,  when  r^nt, 
The  earth  is  covered  thick  with  other  clay — 

Which  her  dwn  clay  shall  c6ver,  heaped  and  p^nt, 
Rider  and  h6r8e — ^fri^nd,  f6e — in  one  red  biirial  blent. 

Bybon'a  ChOdt  HarvU. 


6.    SANTA  PILOMENA. 

This  poem  was  written  in  honor  of  Florence  Nightingale,  an  Eng- 
lish lady,  distinguished  for  her  philanthropy,  and  for  her  devotion 
to  the  sick  and  wounded  soldiers  in  tho  Crimean  war.  '*Filomena" 
is  <V    T  Xightingale.''    There  is  a  Saint  Filomena,  who  is 


348  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

represented  as  floating  down  from  attended  by  two  angels 

bearing  the  lily,  palm,  nnd  javelin,  autl  Wneath,  in  the  foreground, 
the  sick  and  mniinftl.  who  are  healed  by  her  intercession. 

1.    AVh    .     :   :i  noble  deed  |  is  wr6ught, 
^ '  Whene'er  is  spoke  |  a  noble  th6ught, 

Our  liearts,  in  glad  surprise, 

To  lii flier  Vivels  \  rise. 

J  1.    The  tKiai  Aviive  |  of  deeper  sonls  | 

Into  our  inmost  being  |  r(')lls, 
And  lifts  us  |  unawares  | 
Out  of  all  meaner  c^s. 

\\.    Honor  to  those  |  whose  wordB  and  deeds  | 
Thus  help  us  |  in  our  daily  n^eds. 
And  I  by  their  Overflow  | 
Raise  us  |  from  what  is  16w! 

4.  Thus  thought  I,  as  by  night  I  r6ad  | 
Of  the  great  army  |  of  the  d^ad, 

The  trenches  |  cold  and  ddmp, 
The  starved  |  and  frozen  ckmp; 

5.  The  wounded  |  from  the  battle  plain, 
In  dreary  hospitals  of  pain — 

The  cheerless  corridors, 
The  cold  ]  and  stony  floors. 

6.  L6 !   in  that  house  of  misery  | 
A  lady  |  with  a  lamp  |  I  see  | 

Pass  through  the  glimmering  gloom. 
And  flit  I  from  room  to  room. 

7.  And  slow  |  as  in  a  dream  of  bliss, 
The  speechless  sufferer  |  turns  to  kiss  | 

Her  shadow,  as  it  falls  | 
Upon  the  darkening  walls. 


SCHOOL    LLOCUTION.  349 

8.  As  if  a  door  in  heaven  |  should  be  | 
Opened  |  and  then  closed  suddenly, 

The  vision  |  came  and  went, 
The  light  shone  |  and  was  sp^nt. 

9.  On  England^s  annals,  the  long 
Hereafter  |  of  her  speech  and  s6ng. 

That  light  |  its  rays  |  shall  cast  | 
From  portals  |  of  the  p^t. 

10.  A  Lady  with  a  Lamp  |  shall  stand  | 
In  the  great  history  of  the  14nd, 

A  noble  t3T)e  of  g6od. 
Heroic  w6manhood. 

11.  Nor  even  shall  be  wanting  here  | 
The  p61m,  the  lily,  and  the  sp^ar, 

The  symbols  |  that  of  yore  | 

Santa   Filomdna   b6re.  Longfellow. 


7.    THE  DEATH   STRUGGLE. 

[An  example  of  animated  and  imjyassioncd  dcscrijHionf  characterized 
by  fast  movement  and  radical  stress.} 

"Now  yield  thee,  or,  by  Him  who  made 
Tlie  world,  thy  hecirVs  blood  dyes  my  blade!" 
"Thy  threats,  thy  mercy  I  defy! 
Let  recreant  yiHd^  who  fears  to  dU.^ 
— Like  adder  darting  from  his  coil, 
Like  icoJf  that  diushes  through  the  UvU, 
Like  mountain-cat  who  guards  her  young, 
Full  at  Fitz-Jaraes's  throat  he  sprfing; 
Rec^'ived,  but  rocked  not  of  a  w6und, 
And  locked  his  arms  his  foeman  r^und. — 
Now,  gallant  Saxon,  hold  thine  6wn! 
No  maidetCs  arm  is  round  thee  thr6wnl 


350  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

That  desperate  grasp  thy  frame  might  tM 

Through  bars  of  brass  and  triple  st^l! — 

They  tug,  they  strain!  down,  d6wn,  they  g6. 

The  Gael  ab6ve,  Fitz-James  bel6w. 

The  Chieftain*s  gripe  his  throat  compressed; 

His  knee  was  planted  in  his  br^t; 

His  clotted  locks  he  backward  thr^w, 

Across  his  brow  his  hand  he  dr^w, 

From  blood  and  mist  to  dear  his  sight, 

Then  gleamed  aloft  his  dagger  bright! 

— But  hate  and  fury  ill  supplied 

The  stream  of  lifers  exhausted  tidej 

And  all  too  laXe  the  advantage  came, 

To  turn  the  odds  of  deadly  gknu  -. 

For,  while  the  dagger  gleamed  on  high, 

Reeled  soul  and  shtse^  reeled  brain  and  et/f. 

Down  came  the  bl6w!  but  in  the  heath 

The  erring  hldde  found  bloodless  sMath. 

The  struggling  foe  may  now  unclasp 

The  fainting  Chiefs  relaxing  gr^sp; 

Un wounded  from  the  dreadful  close, 

But  breathless  all,  Fitz-James  ar6se.  sooir. 


8.  SANDALPHON. 

1.  Have  you  read  fin  the  Talinud[  of  61d, 
In  the  Legend:^  the  Rabbin  J  have  t^ld 

Of  the  limitless  realms  of  the  dir;  . 
Have  you  read  it — the  marvelous  st6ry  | 
Of  Sandalphon,  the  Angel  of  Glory, 

Sanddlphon,  the  Angel |of  Prayer! 

2.  How,  erect,  at  the  outermost  gates! 
Of  the  City  Cokfitiafhe  waits. 

With  his  feetflon  the  ladderjof  light, 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  851 

That,  crowded  with  angels  unnumbered, 
By  Jacoblwas  seen,  as  he  slumbered 
Aloneiin  the  desert! at  night? 

3.  The  Angels  Jof  Wind  and  of  Fire 
Chant' only  one  hymn,  and  expire 

With  the  song's  I  irresistible  stn*ss — 
Expire  in  their  rapture  and  w6uder,/ 
As  harp-strings  are  broken  asunder 

By  music  \they  throb  [to  express. 

4.  But! serene  in  the  rapturous  throng, 
Unmoved^  by  the  rush /of  the  song, 

With  eyes  I  unim passioned  and  sl6w, 
Among  the  dead  dngels,  the  deathless 
SandalphoiJ  stands  listening,  breathless,         • 

To  sounda  that  ascend  from  below  j — 

5.  From  the  spirits  on  earth  that  adore, 
From  the  soula  that  entreat  and  impl6ref 

In  the  fervor/ and  passicm  of  prayer; 


From  the  hearts  that  are  broken  witli  losses, 
And  weary  I  with  dragging  the  crosses/ 
Too  heavy/ for  mortals  to  bear. 


heavy/ 


6.    And  he  gathers  the  j)rayer8  as  he  stands. 
And  they  change  into  flowersi  in  his  hdnds, 

Int^  garlands, of  purple  ana  red; 
And  beneath  the  great  arch,  of  the  p6rtal, 
Through  the  streets  jof  the  City  Imm6rtal 

Is  wafted  jthe  fragrance  they  shed. 
i 
I  legend  I  kn6w, 
A  iViblc,  a  phruitora,  a  sh^w. 

Of  the  ancient  Kabbinicul  16re; 
Yet  the  old  medieval  tnvdition, 
The  beautiful,  strange  superstition. 

But  haunts  me  and  holds  me  the  m6re. 


352  SCHOOL   ELOCUTION. 

8.  When  I  look  from  my  window  at  night. 
And  tlic  welkin  above  is  all  white, 

All  throbbing  and  panting  Avith  stais, 
Ani6ng  them,  majestic,  is  stiindiiig 
Sand^phon,  the  angel,  expanding 

His  i^nJQTjiR  in  neliy^ous  bilrs. 

9.  And  tlu;  i%end,  I  feel,  is  a  pdrt  \ 

Of  the  hunger  I  and  thirst  of  the  he^rt — 

The  frenzvlnnd  fireit)f  the  brain. 
That  grasps]  at  the  fmitagMorbidden, 
The  golden  J  pomegranates  of  ^den, 
To  quiet  its  fever  and  pkin.  LoxoriLiow 

9.    THE  OLD  CONTINENTALS. 

IThis  pie€^  nuiy  he  rendered  with  a  considerable  degree  of  imitative 
reading.  It  is  characterized  bj/  declamatory  forcCy  radical  stress^  and 
orotund  qualittj.  Let  the  class  mark  for  rhetorical  pauses,  emphasis, 
and  injleciiouis.'] 

1.  In  their  ragged  regiment  ah, 
Stood  the  old  Continentals, 

Yielding  not, 
"When  the  Grenadiers  were  lunging, 
And  like  hail  fell  the  ^;7mm/7/w^ 
Ciinnon-^oi; 
"When  the  files 
Of  the  isles, 
From  the  smokj'  night  encampment  bore  the  banner  of 
the  i*ampant 

Unicom, 
And  grummer,  grummer,  grummer,  rolled  the  roll  of  the 
(Iru  miner, 

Through  the  mom ! 

2.  Then  with  eyes  to  the  front  aU, 
And  ^-ith  guns  horizontal, 

Stood  our  sires; 


SCHOOL     .  .  TIuN.  353 

And  tlie  balls  whistled  deadly, 
And  in  streams  flashing  rMly 
Blazed  the  fires; 
As  the  roar 
On  the  shore, 
Swept  the  strong  battle-breakers  o^er  the  green-sodded 
Acres 

Of  the  pltiinj 
And  luuiUr,  louder j  louder ,  craclced  the  black  gunpowder, 
Cracked  amkin! 

3.  Now  like  smiths  at  their  f6rges 
Worked  the  red  St.  Ge6rge's 

Cannon  ihs  ; 
And  the  villainous  "saltpeter" 
Rang  a  fierce,  discordant  m^ter 

Round  their  ^arsj 

As  the  swift 

St<)rm-drift, 
With  hot,  sweeping  anger,  came  the  horse-guards'  clangoT 

On  our  flt\nks. 
Tlun  linker,  higher,  higher,  burned  th^  old-fashioned  ftre 

Through  the  rdnks! 

4.  Then  the  old-fashioned  C61onel 
Galloped  through  the  white  infernal 

P()tr(/c/M»loud ; 
And  his  broadsword  was  swinging, 
And  his  brazen  throat  was  ringing 
Tnunpet-\o\id. 
^  Then  the  blue 
Bullets  flew, 
And  the  ^reaper-jackets  redden  at  the  touch  of  the  leaden 

R\fff'hrvAth. 
And  rounder,  rounder,  rounder,  roared  the  iron  six-pounder, 
Hurling  death  I  ucUAgnam. 


354  SCHO(»  UTION. 

10.    THE  WINDS. 

[Read  this  poem  line  by  Une^  and  let  the  cJass  repeat^  in  concer\ 
after  jfou.  Then  require  each  pupil^  in  /«»»,  to  go  upon  tJie  plat/on 
a$ul  read  one  stanjrOf  subject  to  the  criticism  of  the  doss  and  teacher. 

1. 
Ye  ^vinds,  ye  un  urrents  of  the  4ir, 

SofUy  ye  pla\  \w  hrivt  hours  ag6; 

Ye  bore  the  munriuriug  b^j  ye  tofised  the  hair 

OVr  maiden  cheeks  that  took  a  frhher  glowj 
Y'e  rolUnl  the  round  white  cloud  tlu*ough  depths  of  blue 
Y^'e  shook  from  shadeti  flowers  the  lingering  d^w; 
Before  you  the  caUMpa's  blossom  fl^w, 

Light  blossoms,  dropping  on  the  grass  like  sn6w. 


What  cMiige  is  thLst    Ye  take  the  cdtaracfs  sound; 

Ye  take  the  "'^  '      ^s  fury  and  its  might; 
The  mountain  >/  >  as  ye  sweep  the  ground; 

The  valley  woods  lie  prone  beneath  yoiu*  flight; 
The  clouds  before  you  shoot  like  ktgles  past; 
The  homes  of  men  are  r6cking  in  your  bl^j 
Ye  lift  the  roofs  like  autumn  Uaves,  and  cist, 

Skyward,  flio  whirling  fragments  out  of  sight. 

3. 
The  weary  fowls  of  heaven  make  wing  in  vain. 

To  *scape  your  wrkth;  ye  seize  and  dash  them  d^ad 
Against  the  earth  ye  drive  the  roaring  rdin; 

The  harvest  field  becomes  a  rivei-'s  bed; 
And  torrents  tumble  from  the  hiUs  aroimd; 
Plains  turn  to  lakes,  and  villages  are  di-owned; 
And  wailing  voices^  midst  the  tempest's  soimd, 

Rise,  as  the  rushing  waters  swell  and  sprkad. 

4. 
Ye  dart  upon  the  deep;  and  sti-aiglit  is  heard 
A  wilder  roar;  and  men  grow  pale  and  pray^ 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  355 

Ye  fliii^  its  floods  around  you,  as  a  bird 

Flings  o'er  his  shivering  plumes  the  fountain's  sprky. 
See!  to  the  breaking  mast  the  sdilor  clings; 
Ye  scoop  the  dcean  to  its  briny  springs, 
And  take  the  mountain  hUlow  on  your  wings. 

And  pile  the  wreck  of  ndvies  round  the  bay. 

5. 
Why  rage  ye  th^st — no  strife  for  liberty 

Has  made  you  mad;   no  tjT^nt,  strong  through  fear, 
Has  chained  your  pinions  till  ye  wrenched  them  fi*^, 

And  rushed  into  the  unmeasured  Atmosphere; 
For  ye  were  born  in  freedom  where  ye  blow; 
Free  o'er  the  mighty  deep  to  come  and  go; 
Eartt's  solemn  woods  were  yours,  her  wastes  of  sn6w, 

Her  isles  where  summer  blossoms  all  the  y^ar. 

6. 
O  ye  wild  winds;  a  mightier  power  than  y6urs 

In  chains  upon  the  shore  of  E  it  rope  lies; 
The  sceptered  tln*6ng,  whose  fetters  he  endures, 

Watch  his  mute  throes  with  terror  in  their  eyes; 
And  armed  wdrriors  all  around  him  stand, 
And,  as  he  struggles,  tighten  every  bAnd, 
And  lift  the  heavy  spear,  with  threatening  h^nd, 

To  pierce  the  victim,  should  he  strive  to  rise. 

7. 
Yet  oh!  when  that  wronged  Spirit  of  our  race 

Shall  bn^'ak,  as  soon  he  must,  his  long-worn  ch^inSy 
And  leap  in  freedom  from  his  pman-place. 

Lord  of  his  ancient  hills  and  fruitful  pltiins, 
Let  him  not  rise,  like  these  mad  winds  of  dir, 
To  waste  the  loveliness  tliat  time  could  sptire, 
To  All  the  earth  with  w6e,  and  blot  the  fair 

Unconscious  breast  with  blood  from  human  r-'-v. 


356  SCHOOL    ELo(   ITloN. 

8. 
But  may  he  like  the  Spr)ng-time  come  abroad, 

T\'li(»  (  riiiii1.l<  >   W]ntet''s  gyves  with  g<»ntle  might, 
Whrii   ill  the  genial   '•••■"'    ♦!.,.  i-».;)th  of  Ct(h1, 

C'liiK'  spouting  \i\  pr)u(;s  to  hght; 

Flowers  start  from  thiir  utrk  prisons  at  his  f^t, 
The  woodsj  long  dumb,  awake  to  hymnings  sw^ot; 
And  morn  and  eve,  whose  glimmerings  almost  nit  •  t 

Crowd  la  k  to  narrow  bounds  the  ancient  night 


11.     Tin:    DAY    IS    1)()N1-:. 

1.  Tilt'  day  is  d^ne,  and  the  darkuess 

Falls  from  the  wings  of  Night, 
As  a  feather  is  wafted  d6wnward 
From  an  eagle  in  his  flight. 

2.  I  see  the  lights  of  tlu-  village 

Gleam  through  the  rain  and  tin    miVt. 
And  a  feeling  of  stidness  comes  <»'.  i-  me 
That  my  soul  cannot  resist. 

3.  A  f. mIi!!"   of  sadiirss  and  longing, 

!iMt   akin   to  ])aiu. 
And  re&embles  son'ow  ouly, 
As  the  mist  resembles  the  rdin, 

4.  Come,  read  to  me  some  j^oeniy 

Some  simple  and  heartfelt  lay, 
That  shall  soothe  this  restless  feeling, 
And  banish  the  thoughts  of  dky. 

5.  Xof  from  the  gi-and  old  masters, 

Xot  from  the  bards  sublime, 
AVli<».    distant  footsteps  echo 
Tliiuimh  the  corridors  of  Time. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  357 

6.  For,  like  strains  of  nuirtial  music, 

Their  mighty  thoughts  suggest 
Life's  endless  toil  and  cndhivor; 
And  to-night  I  long  for  r^st. 

7.  Read  from  some  Mmhler  poet, 

Whose  songs  gushed  from  his  hefirt, 
As  showers  from  the  clouds  of  siimmer^ 
Or  tmra  from  the  (f/rlids  stiirtj 

8.  Who,  through  long  days  ul'  labor, 

And  nights  devoid  of  6ase, 
Still  heard  in  his  soul  the  music 
Of  wonderful  melodies. 

9.  Such  songs  have  power  to  quiet 

The  restless  pulse  of  c4re, 

And  come  like  the  benediction 

Tliat  follows  after  prayer. 

10.  Then  read  from  the  treasured  volume 

The  poem  of  thy  ch6ice, 
And  lend  to  the  rhyme  of  the  p6et 
The  beauty  of  tliy  v6ice. 

11.  And  the  nifjlif  shall  be  filled  with  music, 

And  the  cares  that  infest  the  day, 
Shall  fold  their  tents  like  the  Arabs, 
And  as  silently  steal  aw&y. 


LoNOrKLLUW. 


12.    THE  BATTLE-FIELD. 

Once  this  soft  turf,  this  rivulet's  sands. 
Were  trarapletl  |  by  a  hunting  crdied, 

And  ftery  hedrts  \  and  armtkl  hdnds  \ 
Encountered  in  the  bdtlle-iAoud, 


358  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

2.  Ah' !  never  shall  the  land  forget  | 

How  gushed  the  lifeMood  \  of  her  brdve — 
(hUhedy  warm  with  hope  and  courage  y^t, 
Upon  the  s6il  \  they  fought  to  siive. 

3.  Now  all  is  c41m,  and  fr^sh  and  still; 

Alone  the  chirp  of  flitting  bird, 
And  talk  of  children  on  the  hill, 
And  bell  of  wandering  hhie  \  are  h^ard. 

4.  No  solemn  host  goes  trailing  by 

The  black-mouthed  gun  \  and  staggering  wdin 
Men  start  not  at  the  bdttle^ry'j 
6h,  be  it  never  hMrd  agdin! 

5.  Soon  rested  |  those  who  f6ughtj  but  th6u, 

Who  minglest  in  the  harder  strife  | 
For  truths  |  which  men  receive  not  n6w, 
Thy  warfare  |  only  ends  with  Vife. 

6.  A  friendless  w^are !  lingering  long  | 

Through  weary  d4y  |  and  weary  y^ar. 
A  wild  and  many-weaponed  throng  | 
Hang  on  thy  fnSnt,  and  flank,  and  r^ar. 

7.  Yet  nerve  thy  spirit  |  to  the  pr6of. 

And  blench  not  at  thy  chosen  16t; 
The  timid  good  may  stand  al6of, 

The  sage  may  frown — ^}^et  faint  thou  not. 

8.  Nor  heed  the  sh4ft  |  too  surely  c4st. 

The  foul  I  and  hissing  bolt  of  scorn; 
For  with  thy  side  |  shall  dwell,  at  last, 
The  victory  |  of  endurance  \  bom. 

9.  Truth  I  crushed  to  earth  |  shall  rise  again; 

The  eternal  y^ars  \  of  God  are  h^rs; 
But  Error  \  wounded,  writhes  in  pain, 
And  dies  \  among  his  worshipers. 


SCHOOL   ELOCUTION.  8S9 

10.  Ye4,  though  thou  lie  upon  the  diist, 

When  they  who  helped  thee  flee  in  f^, 
Die  I  full  of  hope  and  manly  trust, 
Like  those  who  fell  in  battle  Mre. 

11.  AnSther  hand  |  the  sword  shall  wi61d, 

Another  hand  |  the  standard  wdve, 
Till  from  the  trumpet's  mouth  |  is  p^led 
The  blast  of  triumph  |  o'er  tliy  gr^ve. 

Bbyant. 


13.    HYMN  TO  MONT  BLANC. 

IThis  is  a  diffiettU  piece  of  reading.  It  should  be  first  analyzed 
grammatically  and  rhetorically,  to  enable  the  piqnl  to  comprehend  the 
full  meaning.  The  reading,  in  general,  will  be  characterized  by  me- 
dian stress,  orotund  quality,  strong  force,  and  slow  movement.'] 

Hast  thou  a  chiirm  to  stay  the  morning-star 
Ih  his  steep  c6urse?     So  long  he  seems  to  pause 
On  thy  bald,  awful  head,  O  sovereign  BldncI 
The  Arve  and  Arveiron  at  thy  base 
Rave  c^aselesslij;  but  thou,  most  awful  f6rm, 
Risest  from  forth  thy  silent  sea  of  pines. 
How  silently!     Around  thee  and  above. 
Deep  is  the  air  and  dikrk;   substantial  bl^k; 
An  4hon  mass:   methinks  thou  jnercest  it 
As  with  a  ickdge!     But  when  I  look  ag&in, 
It  is  thine  own  cdlm  l^me^  thy  crystal  shrhie^ 
Thy  habitation  from  eternity. 

0  tlreatl  and  silent  .Mount!   I  gazed  upon  thee, 
Till  thou,  still  present  to  the  bodily  sense, 

Didst  vdnish  from  my  th6ught:  entranced  in  prdyer^ 

1  worshiped  the  Invisible  alone. 

Yet,  like  some  sweet,  beguiling  melody — 
So  sweet,  we  know  not  we  are  listening  to  it — 
Tboo,  the  meanwhile,  waHt  blending  with  my  thdughi^ 
Yea,  with  my  ll/e  and  life's  own  secret  jdy; 


360  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Till  the  dilating  s6ul— enrdpt,  tranfiised 

Into  the  mighty  vision  pdssing — there, 

As  in  her  natural  f6rra,  swelled  vast  to  JItuten! 

Awdkej  my  soul!  not  only  passive  praise 
Thou  6west;   not  alone  these  swelling  iearSy 
Mute  (hanks J  and  secret  Ecstasy.    Awkke,  - 
Voice  of  sweet  song!     Awkke,  my  heart,  awdke! 
Green  vdles  and  icy  cliffs,  (ill  join  my  hymn. 

Thou  first  and  Mef,  sole  sovereign  of  the  vile! 
O,  struggling  with  the  darkness  all  the  nighty 
And  visited  all  night  by  troops  of  stars, 
Or  when  they  climb  the  sky  or  when  they  ahik; 
Companion  of  the  morning-star  at  dawn, 
Thyself  Earth's  rosy  «/(/>,  and  of  the  dawn 
Co-herald  J   wilke,  O  tcake,  and  utter  priMse! 
Whd  sank  thy  sunless  pillars  deep  in  ^arth? 
Who  filletl  thy  countenance  with  rosy  Ught? 
Who  made  thee  parent  of  perpetual  streams  f 

And  you,  ye  five  wild  torrents,  fiercely  glad! 
Who  called  you  forth  from  night  and  utter  (Uath, 
From  dark  and  icy  cdverns  called  you  forth, 
Down  those  precipitous,  bl^k,  j^ged  r6cks. 
For  ever  shattered  and  the  same  for  ^ver? 
Wild  gave  you  your  invulnerable  life, 
Your  strength,  your  sp^d,  your  fury,  and  your  joy, 
Unceasing  thunder  and  eternal  foam  f 
And  who  commanded  (and  the  silence  came), 
^^Here  let  the  billows'  stiffen,  and  have  restf" 

Ye  }ce-falls!   ye  that  from  the  mountain's  brow 
Adown  enormous  ravines  slope  amain  — 
Torrents,  methinks,  that  heard  a  mighty  voice, 
And  stopped  at  6nce  amid  their  maddest  plunge ! 
M6tionless  t5rrents!   silent  cataracts! — 
Who  made  you  glorious  as  the  gates  of  Heaven 
Beneath  the  keen  full  moon?     ^\Tio  bade  the  sun 
Clothe  you  with  rdinbows  f     Who,  with  living  flowers 


srtnOOL    ELOCUTION.  *       361 

Of  loveliest  nim-,  spread  (jdrlands  at  your  f^etT — 

(fod!  let  the  torrents,  like  a  shout  of  nations 

Answer!   and  let  the  Jce-plains  echo,  Odd! 

Odd!  sing  ye  meadow-streams  with  gladsome  voice! 

Ye  pJ«e-groves,  with  your  soft  and  soul-like  86und8 ! 

And  thhj^  too,  have  a  voice,  you  piles  of  sn6w, 

And  in  their  perilous  fall  shall  thunder,  God! 

Ye  living  fldivers  that  skirt  the  eternal  fr6st ! 

Ye  wild  goafs  sporting  round  the  kujle's  nest! 

Ye  Ragles,  playmates  of  the  mountain-storm! 

Ye  Ughtnings,  the  dread  arrows  of  the  cl6ud8! 

Ye  signs  and  wonders  of  the  Hements! 

Utter  forth  ''God!''  and  fill  the  hills  with  prdise. 

Once  mdrr^  hoar  m6unt !  with  thy  sky-pointing  p^ak, 
Oft  from  whose  feet  the  avalanche,  unheard. 
Shoots  downward,  gUttering  through  the  pure  serene, 
Into  the  depth  of  clouds  that  veil  thy  breast — 
Thou,  too,  again,  stupendous  mduntain!   thou, 
That,  as  I  mise  my  head,  awhile  bowed  low 
In  adoration,  upward  from  thy  base 
Slow-traveling  with  dim  eyes  suffused  mth  t^ars, 
Solemnly  s<^emest,  like  a  vapory  cloudy 
To  rise  before  me — rise,  oh,  h*er  rise; " 
jR)sf,  like  a  cloud  of  incense,  from  the  ^arth! 
Thou  kinghj  spirit  throned  among  tlie  hills, 
Thou  drt^ad  anibdssador  from  earth  to  h6aven, 
Gr^at  hierarch!   tell  thou  the  silent  slg, 
And  tell  the  stars,  and  tell  yon  rising  siin, 
Earthy  with  her  thousand  v6ices,  praises  Gdd! 

COLUUDOK. 


362  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

14.    MORNING  HYMN. 

[TAi*  piece  is  cftaracterizcd  by  slow  movent'»f    mniiaj,  ...;;....,  uud 
orotund  qtiality.'] 

These  are  thy  glorious  worJcSy  Parent  of  ^^hmI. 

Almighty!     Thine  this  universal  frcime, 

Thus  wondrous  thiri  Thyself  how  Avondrous  th^n! 

Unspeakable,  wlio  sit^st  above  these  heavens 

To  us  invisible,  or  dimly  seen 

In  these  thy  lowest  w6rks;  yet  tMse  declare 

Thy  goodness  beyond  thought,  and  power  divine. 

Splaliy  ye  who  best  can  tcU,  ye  sons  of  Dghty 

Angels;  for  ye  behold  him,  and  with  songs 

And  choral  symphonies,  day  without  night, 

Circle  liis  throne  rejdicing;  ye,  in  Heaven y 

On  t/irth,  join  (ill  ye  creatures,  to  extol 

Him  first,  him  hist,  him  midstj  and  without  hid. 

Fairest  of  stdrs,  last  in  the  train  of  night, 

If  better  thou  belong  not  to  the  dawn, 

Sure  pledge  of  day,  that  crown'st  the  smiling  mom 

With  thy  bright  circlet,  ^^mt^e  him  in  thy  sphere, 

'VMiile  d()y  aiJses,  that  sweet  hour  of  prime. 

Thou  Sint,  of  this  great  world  both  eye  and  soul, 

Acknowledge  him  thy  greater;  sound  his  praise 

In  thy  eternal  course,  both  when  thou  cUml/st, 

And  when  high  noon  hast  gained,  and  when  thou  fctlVst. 

Moon,  that  now  meet'st  the  orient  Siin,  now  fly'st. 

With  the  fixed  stdrs,  fixed  in  their  orb  that  flies; 

And  ye  five  other  wandering  fires,  that  move 

In  mystic  dance  not  without  song,  resound 

His  praise,  who  out  of  darkness  called  up  Tight 

Air,  and  ye  Elements,  the  eldest  birth 

Of  Nature's  w6mb,  that  in  quaternion  run, 

Perpetual  circle,  multiform;  and  mix 

And  nourish  dll  things;  let  your  ceaseless  change 

Vary  to  our  great  Maker  still  new  praise. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  363 

Yo  mists  and  <u A.. /...f. //«*•,  that  now  rise 

From  hill  or  steaming  hike,  dusky  or  grdy, 

Till  the  sun  paint  your  fleecy  skirts  with  g61d, 

In  honor  to  the  worhVs  great  Author  rise; 

Whether  to  deck  with  clouds  the  uncolored  sky, 

Or  wet  the  thirsty  earth  with  falling  sh6wers, 

Rising  or  f tilling,  still  advance  his  prdise. 

His  praise,  ye  winds,  that  from  four  quarters  blow, 

Breatlie  s6ft  or  loud;   and  wave  your  tops,  ye  pines, 

With  every  plant,  in  sign  of  worship,  wkve. 

Fountains,  and  ye  that  warble  as  ye  flow. 

Melodious  miirmurs,  warbling,  tune  his  prdise. 

Join  voices  dll,  ye  limng  souls:  ye  Urds, 

That  singing,  up  to  Maven^s  gate  asc/nd. 

Bear  on  your  wings  and  in  your  note^  his  prdise. 

MlLTOH. 


15.    THANATOPSIS. 

[J*  a  j,>t:,„i,„ury  exercise,  let  pupils  name  all  the  phrases  and 
clauses,  and  tell  ichat  each  modifies;  also,  call  on  them  to  parse  the 
more  difficult  words.  The  reading  of  this  poem  is  characterized  hy 
slow  movement,  median  stress,  and  orotund  qHality.'] 

To  him  I  who  |  in  the  love  of  Nature  \  holds 
Communion  |  with  her  visible  forms,  she  speaks  | 
A  various  Idnguage;   for  his  gayer  hours  | 
She  has  a  voice  of  glddness,  and  a  smile 
And  eloquence  of  beauty,  and  she  glides  | 
Into  his  darker  musings  with  a  mild  | 
And  healing  sympathy,  that  steals  &wky 
Their  sharpnesH  |  en»  he  is  aware.     When  thonghts  | 
Of  the  last  bitter  hour  |  come  like  a  blight  | 
Over  thy  spirit,  and  sad  images  | 
Of  the  stem  agony,  and  shroud,  and  pdU, 
And  breatlUess  darkness,  and  the  narrow  hduse^ 
Make  thee  to  shtidder  |  and  grow  sick  at  kiart. 


364  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Gk)  f6rth  |  under  the  o}»  ikI  li>i 

To  ydturt^s  teacliinirs:    wliil.-  from  all  ai-<')iin(l — 
£arth  and  her  waters,  and  the  depths  of  air — 
Comes  I  a  still  voiro: — Yet  a  few  d&ys  |  and  thee  \ 
.  The  all-beholdiii  4iall  sec  ii">  moit'  j 

In  all  his  course;   ii<»r  yet  |  in  tla*  cold  ground, 
Where  thy  pale  fonn  ]  was  laid  with  many  f^arSj 
Nor  in  the  embrace  of  dcean,  shall  exist 
Thy  hnage.    ^arth,  that  ndurished  thee,  sliall  claim 
Thy  growth,  to  be  resolved  to  kirth  again; 
And,  lost  racli  Jinni'ni  tv'irr,  siurendering  up 
TliiiH'  indiridual  being,  shalt  thou  go  | 
To  iiiix  forever  with  the  elemeufSf 
To  be  a  brother  |  to  tli*    iii<.  ii<il.lc  rdck  \ 
And  to  tho  slnLTcrisli  clod,  which  ilic  mde  swain  | 
Turns  witli  liis  sJnirCy  and  treads  upon.     The  oak 
Shall  send  liis  roots  abroad,  and  pierce  thy  m61d. 

Yet  not   to  thine  eternal  resting-place  j 
Shalt  tliou  retire  ahme — nor  eould'st  thou  wish  \ 
Cou(  h  ///  /<    ii"^'iii\ficent.    Thou  shalt  lie  down  | 
With  p,i!ri:ii-rl:-     of  the  infant  world — with  Jnnfjs-. 
71i,.  i„:,r.  ri'^ii  mT  t];..  :,irth — the  whey  the  fjooiL 
Fair  vy  sf'ers  of  ages  />'isf. 

All     111  >Mi''  //'/;//"//  s', pnh-hir.     The  hills, 
Rock-rihhed  and  ancient  ;i<  th.-  .v;n»;    the   calis, 
Strctehinu-  in  pensi\  ]i; 

The  venerahh^   ,»a...'         ,,,,.,,   i^iul   iiiw>o 
In  })}i[}>stii:   iu\y\  nplaining  hrool's, 

Tha*  the  meadows  f/nen;  and,  poured  round  f'U. 

Old  -'  '■  /'.^   irray  and  inchmcholy  waste — 
Are  Init  the  solemn  <h rorafioiis  |  all  ' 
Of  the  gi*eat  tomb  of  man  !     The  golden  shn, 
The  planets,  all  the  inf)>>^'   i"'^f  of  hinven. 
Are  shininu'  on  the  sad  of  d/afJi, 

Through  tlie  still  lapse  of  ages.     All  that  tread 
The  globe  \  are  but  a  hctndful  \  to  the  tribes 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  365 

That  slumber  in  its  bosom.    Take  the  wings 

Of  mdrningy  and  the  Barcan  desert  pierce, 

Or  lose  tliyself  |  in  the  continuous  woods  | 

Where  rolls  the  5regon,  and  heai*s  no  sound  | 

Save  his  own  d^hings — yet  |  the  dead  |  are  th^re; 

And  mUlions  \  in  those  solitudes,  since  first 

The  flight  of  years  began,  have  laid  them  down  | 

In  their  last  sleep:   the  dead  |  reign  there  |  al6ne! 

So  shalt  thou  rest;   and  what  if  thou  withdraw  | 

Unheeded  by  the  Umig,  and  no  frihid  \ 

Take  note  of  thy  departure !     All  that  hrktfhe  \ 

Will  share  thy  d^^tiny.     The  gay  \  will  laugh 

When  thou  art  g6ne,  the  solemn  brood  of  care  | 

P16d  6n,  and  each  one,  as  bffore,  will  chase 

His  favorite  pMntom;   yet  all  tMse  \  shall  Uave 

Their  mirth  and  their  empl6yments,  and  shall  come  | 

And  make  their  bed  |  with  tlih.     As  the  long  train 

Of  ages  glides  awdy,  the  sons  of  m6n — 

The  youth  \  in  life's  green  spring,  and  he  who  goes  | 

In  the  full  strength  of  ykars,  matron  and  maidj 

The  bowed  with  dge^  the  hifant  \  in  the  smiles  | 

And  beauty  of  its  innocent  age  |  cut  6ff — 

Shall  I  one  by  one  |  be  gathered  to  thy  side  | 

By  th6se  |  who  in  th^ir  tiirn  |  shall  f611()w  thhi. 

So  lUvj  that  when  thy  summons  |  comes  to  join  | 
The  innumerable  caravan  |  that  moves  | 
To  that  mysterious  realm  where  each  shall  t^ke 
His  chamber  |  in  the  silent  halls  of  death, 
Thou  g6,  not  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night, 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon;  but,  sustained  and  soothed  | 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grdve  | 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
Ab6at  him,  and  lies  down  |  to  pleasant  dreams. 

Bktaht. 


366  SCHOOL    BLOGUTION. 


/, 


16.     ELEGY  WRITTEN  IN  A  COUNTRY 
CHURCHYARD. 

1. 
The  airfew  |  tolls  the  knell  |  of  parting  ddy; 
]^        The  lowing  herd  \  winds  slowly  |  o'er  tlie  Ua; 
The  plotcman  \  homewanl  |  plods  his  weary  im'y, 
And  leaves  the  world  \  to  darkness  |  and  to  m/. 

XiAV  iiulfs  I  till'  i^linuncriiiL;  mudarape  I  on  the  ^ght> 
And  all  the  air  \  a  solemn  .«f/i//;i^.'?.«f|  holds, 

Save  where  the  beetle  \  wheels  his  droning  flighty 
And  drowsy  iinhJings  \  lull  the  distant  folds; 

3. 
Save  I  that  from  yonder  |  ivy-mantled  t6wer, 
^        The  moping  owl  |  does  to  the  moon  |  complain  | 
Of  such  as,  wandering  near  her  secret  IxSwer, 
Molest  her  ancient,  solitary  r^ign. 

4. 
Beneath  those  rugged  ^Ims,  that  yew-tree's  sliAde, 

Where  heaves  the  turf  |  in  many  a  moldering  heap, 
Each  I  in  his  narrow  cell  |  forever  laid, 

The  rude  forefathers  \  of  the  hamlet  \  sleep. 

5. 
The  breezy  c<ill  |  of  incense-breathing  morn, 

The  swallow  \  tvWtteiing  |  from  the  straw-built  shM, 
The  cock^  shrill  clarion j  or  the  echoing  horn, 

No  m6re  |  shall  rouse  them  |  from  their  lowly  b^d. 

6. 

For  them  |  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  \  shall  bum, 
Or  busy  housewife  |  ply  her  evening  c^e;  ^ 

No  children  \  run  |  to  lisp  their  sire's  return. 
Or  climb  liis  l-uees  \  the  envied  Fiss  |  to  share. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  367 

7. 

Oft  did  the  Mrvest  \  to  their  s\cTile  \  yield, 
Their  furrow  \  oft  |  the  stubborn  (jl^he  \  has  broke; 

How  jocund  I  did  they  drive  their  team  a-ft^ld ! 
How  bowed  |  the  woods  \  beneath  their  sturdy  strdke! 

8. 
Let  not  Ambition  |  mock  their  useful  t6il, 

Their  hortiely  joys,  and  destiny  |  obscure; 
Nor  Gn\ndeur  |  hear  |  with  a  disdainful  smile  | 

The  short  |  and  simple  annals  |  of  the  p6<)i . 

9.  ^J 

The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  pow' 

And  all  that  beniity,  all  that  wedlth  |  e«  i   yavc, 
Await  I  alike  |  the  inh'itahle  hour: 

The  paths  of  glory  \  lead  |  but  to  the  grdve. 

Nor  y<Su,  ye  proud,  impute  to  those  the  fault. 
If  Memory  |  o'er  their  tomb  |  no  trophies  raise, 

Where,  through  the  long-drawn  aisle  |  and  fretted  v&ult, 
The  pealing  dnihem  \  swells  the  note  |  of  prdise. 

11, 
Can  sT()ii«'(i   urn,  or  aniniat»'(i  hiisf, 

Hack  to  its  numsiou  |  call  the  fleeting  hr^aihf 
Can  Honor's  voice  |  provoke  the  silent  dtisfj 

Or   1'1.:h.,,i  <....t]„.  I  ♦!...  .lull,   ,...1<1   ..,,r  I  of    T^.'na  f  . 

Perhaps  in  thi>     —         d  spot  |  is  |  laid  | 
Some  hfart  \  ouce  pregnant  |  with  celestial  f\re — 

Hdtuh  I  that  the  rod  of  hnpire  \  might  have  swayed, 
Or  waked  to  icstofy  |  the  living  lyre: 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 
13. 

But  Knowledge  \  to  their  eyes  |  her  ample  p&ge. 
Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne'er  unroll; 

Chill  Piuut'tj  I  repressed  their  noble  rdge, 
And  froze  the  genial  current  \  of  the  s6uL 

14. 
Full  many  a  g^m  |  of  purest  my  serene  | 

The  dark,  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  \  bear; 
Full  many  a  flower  \  is  bom  to  blush  unseen, 

And  waste  |  its  sweetness  \  on  the  dessert  dir. 

Some  village  iffdmgjfen,  that,  with  dauntless  breast, 
The  little  tyrantpof  his  Aelds  )  with8t<>od  j 

Some  mute,  inglorious  MjJw^yhevQ  may  rest — 
Some  Cromwell,  guiltless  of  liis  country's  blood. 

The  applause  |  of  listening  senates  \  to  command. 
The  threats  |  of  pain  and  ruin  |  to  despise, 

To  scatter  pUuty  \  o'er  a  smiling  land, 
And  read  their  history  \  in  a  nation's  ^yes^ 

17. 
Their  Ut  \  forhdde;  nor  cir^ixmscribed  |,al6ne  | 

Their  gro\ving  vtrtueSj  but  their  crimes  confined j 
Forbade  to  wade  |  througli  slaughter  |  to  a  throne, 

And  shut  the  gates  |  of  mercy  |  on  mankhid; 

18. 
The  struggling  pangs  |  of  conscious  truth  \  to  hide, 

To  quench  the  blushes  of  in^t6oes  shdme, 
Or  heap  the  shrine  of  Luxury  and  Pride  | 

With  incense  I  kindled  at  tlie  Muse's  flame^ 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  369 

10. 
Far  from  the  madding  crowd's  |  ignoble  strife, 

Their  sober  wishes  \_n^\ersllcn.jme(i  toi  sir  it  y; 
Along  the  cool,  seqiiestered  \tuf^hiiife  \ 

They  kept  the  noiseless  tenoW|  of  their  wky. 

20. 
Yet  e'en  these  hdneSj  \  from  insult  to  prot^t, 

Some  frail  memorial  \  still  erected  nigh, 
With  uncouth  rhymes  \  and  shapeless  sculpture  \  decked, 

Implores  the  ptissiug  tribute  \  of  a  sigh. 

21. 
Their  ntoe,  their  y^ars,  spelt  by  the  unlettered  Miise, 

The  place  of  fiime  \  and  Hegy  \  supply ; 
And  many  a  holy  text  \  around  she  strews, 

That  teach  the  rustic  moralist  \  to  die, 

22. 
For  wh6,  to  dumb  forgetfulness  |  a  pr^^y, 

This  pleasing,  anxious  being  \  e'er  resigned, 
Left  the  warm  precincts  |  of  the  cheerful  day. 

Nor  ea^st  |  one  Uiigingy  lingering  look  |  behind? 


'  >u  some  fond  hr/ast  \  the  pan  "7  |  relies, 

S<mie  pious  drops  \  tlie  closin  nqulres; 

lO'cn  from  the  tomb  \  the  voice  of  Nature  |  cries, 

F'..ti  it.  4. Ill*  iiv/i.  V  i  i;\..  I  tii-.ii-  u-ont..<i  ni«..c 

1-  :   :..    ,   ..indful  of  the  unhonored  d^ad, 

Dost  I  in  these  lines  |  their  ailk'ss  tale  |  relate, 

Tf  .  Ik'ih.  «',  by  lonely  cont«  i     '  led, 

St)in.    kindred  S2)int  |  sli  t-e  thy  tkte — 


370  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 


H6ply  I  some  hoary-headed  swain  |  may  sAy: 
"Oft  have  we  seen  him,  at  the  peep  of  dawn, 

Brushing  with  hasty  steps  |  the  dews  away, 
To  meet  the  sun  \  upon  the  upland  Idwn. 

26. 
"There,  at  the  foot  |  of  yonder  nodding  b^h, 

That  ^vreathes  its  old,  fantastic  roots  so  higli, 
His  listless  length  |  at  noontide  |  would  he  stret<^ 

And  pore  upon  the  br6ok  |  that  babbles  by. 

27. 
"Hard  by  yon  ir(W,  now  smiling  |  as  in  sc6m, 

Muttering  his  wayward  fancies,  he  would  r6v< 
Now  drooping,  woful-wan,  like  one  forl6m, 

Or  crazed  with  care,  or  crossed  in  hopeless  lo> 

28. 
"One  mom  |  I  missed  him  |  on  the  'customed  hill, 

Along  the  h^th,  and  near  his  favorite  tree; 
Another  \  came,  nor  yet  beside  the  rill. 

Nor  up  the  lawn,  nor  at  the  wood  |  was  hej 

29. 
"The  n6xt,  with  dirges  due,  in  sad  arrdy, 

Slow  I  through  the  cliurch-way  path  |  we  saw  him  b6i 
Approach  and  read  |  (for  iJiou  canst  read)  |  the  My  | 

Graved  on  the  stone  |  beneath  yon  aged  th5rn." 

THE  EPITAPH. 

ITere  \  rests  his  head  \  upon  the  lap  of  ^arthj 
A  yoiith  I  to  Fortune  \  and  to  Fame  \  unhmwn; 

Fair  Science  |  frowned  not  |  on  his  humble  birth, 
And  Whnirliohj  \  mai-ked  him  |  for  her  own. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  871 

31. 

Ldrge  \  was  his  h6nnty,  and  his  sM  \  sinchre; 

Heaven  \  did  a  recompense  (  as  largely  shid: 
He  gave  to  miser u — all  he  had — a  thir; 

He  gained  from  Heaven — 't  was  all  he  wished — &frihid. 


No  further  seek  |  his  merits  \  to  discl6se, 

Or  draw  his  frAUties  \  from  their  dread  alxnle 

(There  |  they  alike  |  in  trembling  h6pe  |  repose) — 
The  bosom  \  of  his  Father  \  and  hist  Odd. 

Thomas  Gkat. 


17.    DANIEL  WEBSTER.    ^ 

1.  When  life  hath  run  its  largest  round  | 

Of  toil  and  tHumph,  joy  and  w6e, 

How  brief  |  a  storied  page  is  found  | 

To  compass  all  its  outward  8h6w! 

2.  .The  world-t^ed  sailor  tires  and  dr6ops; 
(     His  flag  IS  rfntJOiis  keel  forget; 

His  farthest  voyages  |  seem  but  16ops  | 
That  float  |  from  life*s  entangled  kn6t. 

t  when  within  the  narrow  space  | 
Some  larger  soul  hath  lived  and  wnSught, 
Whose  sight  |  was  open  to  embrace  | 
The  boundless  realms  |  of  deed  and  th6ught>» 

I  en,  stricken  thy  the  freezing  blast, 
A  nation's  living  pillars  ftill.        ' 
How  rich  I  tlio  storitnl  yii^\  liow  \kstf 
A  w6rd,*a  whi»p<  - 

medal  |  lifts  its  (ryUiid  liWe, 
\'nr  speaking  inMviil.'  '  i-"li.'!it<  yuui  eye, 


372  srnooi 


lOX 


Yet,  wliilc  these  pictured  lino  I  trace, 

A   lirino  )iti<nir  !  pnss«'s  LV: 

A  root  ,  I  mouniaiii  pines; 

The  ^h'  hill-prt  phiin; 

The  front  of  lifers  embattled  linei 

A  mound  |  beside  the  fieaving 


7     rii  M'  I  are  the  scenes:  a  hot/  appears; 
St  I  life's  round  diaj  |  in  the  siin, 
Count  the  swift  arc  |  of  seventy  y^ars, 
His  fr^e  {  is  dust;  his  t^k  |  is  d6ne. 

8.  Yet  pause  upon  the  noontide  h6ur, 
Ere  the  declining  sun  |  has  laid  | 
His  bleaching  rays  |  on  manhood's  p<!>wer, 
And  look  upon  the  mighty  shMe. 

No  gloom  I  that  stately  shape  can  hide, 
No  clumge  |  uncrown  its  br6w;  beh61d! 

D4rk,  ciimi,  lArge-fronted,  lightning-eyed, 
Earth  has  no  double  |  from  its  mold- 

10.  Ere  from  the  fields  |  by  \..iv»i   v>on  | 
The  battle-smoke  |  had  rolled  away, 
And  bared  the  blood-red  setting  sun, 
His  >'\"<     "-<'v..  fox^iifd  on  the  day. 

Vi.  His  land  ,  was  but  a  shelving  strip  | 

Bla<;k  |  with  the  strife  |  that  made  it  free; 
He  lived  |  to  see  its  banners  dip  | 
Their  fringes  j  in  the  western  s^a. 

12.  The  boundless  /)rrt/>*/e5  |  learned  his  nfime,       y^ 
His  words  |  the  mountain  echoes  knew, 
The  northern  breezes  |  swept  his  fame  |  ■■ 
From  icy  lake  |  to  warm  bayou. 


SCHOOL   !  373 

l;;.    hi  t«'>il  1  hv  livt'tl;    ill  petic-e  j  lie  clkdj 
When  life's  full  eyj^  \\tis  complete, 
Put  off  liis  rolxjs  of  power  and  i)ride, 
And  laid  them  |  at  his  Master's  ihct. 

14.  His  rest  |  is  by  the  storm-swept  waves  | 

Whotgifi^  wilji  tempests  |  roughly  tried, 
Whose  nedrt  |  was  like  the  streaming  c4ves  | 
Of  ocean,  throbbing  at  his  side. 

15.  Death's  cold  white  hand  |  is  like  the  sn6w  | 

Laid  softly  |  on  the  furrowed  hill — 
It  hides  the  broken  seams  bel6w, 
And  leaves  the  simimit  |  brighter  still. 

16.  In  vain  the  envious  tongue  upbraids; 

His  name  |  a  nation's  heart  shall  k6ep  | 
Till  moming^s  latest  sunlight  fades  | 

On  the  blue  tablet  |  of  the  d^p!  holhm. 


18. ,  ST.  .vl  ov  .^TINE»S  IlADDER 

1.    Saint  AugTistine!   well  hast  thou  said, 
That  I  of  our  vices  |  we  can  fi-ame  | 
A  ladder,  if  we  will  but  tread  | 
BoiK'Mth  our  ftH't  '  each  deed  of  sh^e! 


N 


2.  All  r  ......    .  ......^  ,  each  day's  events, 

That  I  with  the  hour  |  begin  and  c'nd,      ,^ 
Our  pleasures  [  and  our  discontents, 

^Vre  rounds  |  by  which  |  we  nuiy  ascend. 

3.  The  low  desire,  the  base  design, 

That  makes  another's  virtues  |  1^; 
The  revel  '  of  the  ruddy  ^-  ** 
And  all  occasions  |  of  • 


374  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

4.    The  longing  |  for  ignoble  things; 

The  strife  |  for  triumph  I  more  than  trdthj 
The  hardening  of  the  heart,  that  brings  | 
Irreverence  |  for  the  dreams  of  y6uth; 

Tj.    All  thoughts  of  ill;   all  tvil  d^eds, 

That  have  their  root  |  in  thougl^of  ill; 
Whatever  hinders  |  or  impedes  | 
The  action  |  of  the  noble  will; — 

6.  All  these  |  must  first  |  be  trampled  down  | 

Beneath  our  feet,  if  we  would  gain  | 
In  the  bright  fields  |  of  fair  renown 
The  right  I  of  eminent  domain.  y 

7.  We  have  not  wings,  we  can  not  soar; 

But  we  have  feet  j  to  scale  and  climb, 
By  slow  degrees,  by  more  and  m6re, 

Ti>.'  -.L.ii.iv  summits  |  of  ""»'  *'••"" 

8.  ill'-    ui>uiiji     iliOUntainS,   thai     u|iiiai    j 

Tlieir  solid  l>astions  |  to  the  skies, 
Are  crossed  |  by  pathways,  that  appear  | 
As  we  I  to  higho"  '  ■•  '-     -J^v 

9.  The  heights  |  by  gn-ai  iiu-n  _  n-acm-a  and  k»*pt  | 

Were  not  attained  |  by  sudden  flight, 
But  they,  while  their  companions  slept, 
Were  toiling  upward  |  in  the  night. 

10.  Standing  |  on  what  |  too  long  |  we  bore  | 

With  shoulders  bent  |  and  downcast  eyes, 
We  may  discern — unseen  before — 
A  path  I  to  higher  destinies; 

11.  Nor  deem  the  irrevocable  Past  | 

As  wholh'  wasted,  wholly  vain, 
If,  rising  on  its  wrecks,  at  last  | 

To  sometbiTv.'  ^^oM^^  i  w..  -ittfnn.        LoN',i>LLLo%v. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  375 

19.     RING   OUT,  WILD   BELLS. 

IThis  extract  should  be  read  with  radical  attd  median  stress,  strong 
>rce,  and  strongly  contrasted  inflections.  Let  th^  class  mark  for  cm- 
liattis  and  inflection.'] 

1.  Ring  out,  wild  bells,  to  the  wild  sky. 

The  flying  cloud,  the  frosty  light; 
The  year  is  dying  in  the  night; 
Ring  out,  wild  bells,  and  let  him  die. 

2.  Ring  out  the  old,  ring  in  the  new, 

Ring,  happy  bells,  across  the  snow; 
The  year  is  going;   let  him  go; 
Ring  out  the  false,  ring  in  the  true. 

3.  Ring  out  the  grief  that  saps  the  mind, 

For  those  that  hei^e  we  see  no  more; 
Ring  out  the  feud  of  rich  and  poor, 
Ring  in  redress  to  all  mankind. 

4.  Ring  out  a  slowly  d\ing  cause. 

And  ancient  forms  of  party  strife. 
Ring  in  the  nobler  modes  of  life, 
With  sweeter  manners,  purer  laws. 

.').   King  out  the  want,  the  care,  the  sin. 
The  faithless  coldness  of  tlie  times; 
Ring  out,  ring  out  my  mournful  rhymes. 
But  ring  the  fuller  minstrel  in. 

*■     ^-'ig  out  false  pride,  in  place  and  blood, 
rhe  civic  slander  and  the  spite; 
Ring  in  the  love  of  truth  artd  right, 
Ring  in  the  common  love  of  good. 

7.    Ring  out  old  shapes  of  foul  disease, 
Ring  out  the  narrowing  lust  of  gold, 
Ring  out  the  thousand  woes  of  old. 
Ring  in  the  thousand  years  of  peace. 


376  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

8.   Ring  in  the  valiant  man  and  free, 

The  larger  heart,  the  kindlier  handj 
Ring  out  the  darkness  of  tho  1" /• 
Ring  in  the  Christ  that  is  to  h 


>UMMER  RAIN. 

IThis  extract  ghoul'  <ji»*0  degrees  of  for 

with   the   radical  stress^    roinjinj  jrum    uninijtassioncd   to   eni"' 
The  last  two  stansas  afford  scope  for  ^^ imitative  expression.^'] 

1.  Now  on  the  hills  I  hear  the  thunder  mutter; 

The  wind  is  gathering  in  the  west; 
The  upturned  leaves  first  whiten  and  fi utter, 

Then  droop  to  a  fitful  rest; 
Up  from  the  stream  with  sluggish  flap 

Struggles  the  gull,  and  floats  away; 
Nearer  and  nearer  rolls  the  thunder-clap; 

We  shall  not  see  the  sun  go  down  to-day. 
Now  leaps  the  wind  on  the  sleepy  marsh, 

And  tramples  the  grass  with  terrified  feet; 
The  startled  river  turns  leaden  and  harsh — 

You  can  hear  tlv  'nn,.!:  iw-n-f  <.f  fiu»  tempest  i"^; 

2.  Look!   look!— that  iivid  tlash ! 

And  instantly  follows  the  rattling  thunder, 
As  if  some  cloud-crag,  split  asunder. 

Fell,  splintering  with  a  ruinous  crash, 
On  the  earth,  which  crouches  in  silence  under: 

And  now  a  solid  gray  wall  of  rain 
Shuts  off  the  landscape,  mile  by  mUe. 

For  a  breath's  space  I  see  the  blue  wood  agaii 
And,  ere  the  next  heart-beat,  the  wind-hurled  pile 

That  seemed  but  now  a  league  aloof, 

Bursts  rattling  over  the  sun-parched  roof. 


SPTIOn:      r.LOCUTION.  377 

o.    Agaiiisi  iIr-  wiiiuuuN  the  storm  comes  dashing; 
Through  tottered  foliage  the  hail  tears  crashing; 
The  blue  liglitning  flashes; 
The  mpid  hail  clashes; 

The  white  waves  are  tumbling; 
And,  in  one  baffled  roar, 

Like  the  toothless  sea  mumbling 
A  rock-bristled  shore. 

The  thunder  is  rumbling, 

And  crashing,  and  crumbling — 
Will  silence  return  never  more!  lowwx. 


21.    HYMN  TO  THE  NORTH  STAR. 

[The  reading  of  this  poem  will  he  characterized  by  sloto  movement, 
median  stress,  orotund  quality,  and  middle  key."] 

1. 

The  sad  and  solemn  night 
Hath  yet  her  multitude  |  of  cheerful  fires; 

The  glorious  host  of  light  | 
Walk  the  dark  atmosphere  |  till  she  retires; 
All  through  her  silent  watches,  gliding  slow. 
Her  constcll.itioTis  romf\  and  climb  tho  /./-.v>?iv    .vl  r-"*. 

2. 
Vdy,  too,  hath  many  a  star  \ 
To  grace  his  gorgeous  r6ign,  us  bright  as  thhf: 

Through  the  blue  fields  afar, 
Uns^n,  they  follow  in  his  flaming  wi\y; 
Many  a  bright  lingerer,  as  the  eve  grows  dtm, 
Tells  what  a  radiant  troop  |  arose  and  set  with  Mm. 

3. 

And  thSu  I  dost  see  them  Hse, 
Star  of  the  P61e !  and  thSu  |  dost  see  them  sH. 

A16ne,  in  thy  cold  skies, 
Thou  keep'st  thy  old  unmoving  station  yet, 


378  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Nor  join'st  the  dances  |  of  that  glitt<^riii^'  train, 

Nor  dipp'st  thy  virgin  6rb  |  in  the  blue  western  m^ii 

4. 
Thirey  at  mom's  rosy  birth, 
Thou  lookest  meekly  through  the  kindling  4ir, 

And  ^vpf  that  round  the  Earth  | 
Chases  the  dAy,  beholds  thee  |  wdtching  thhe; 
Th^re  |  noontide  finds  thee,  and  the  hour  that  e411s  | 
The  shapes  of  polar  Mme  |  to  scale  heaven's  azure  wiiV 


Alike,  beneath  thine  lvc, 
The  deeds  of  ddrkne^s  \  and  of  Dght  \  are  d6nej 

High  toward  the  starlit  sky  | 
Towns  blilze,  the  smoke  of  battle  blots  the  Sun; 
The  night-storm  on  a  thousand  hills  |  is  16ud, 
And  the  strong  wind  of  d4y  |  doth  mingle  sea  and  cl6u<]. 


On  thy  unalt<?ring  bU'izc  | 
The  half-wrecked  mariner,  his  compass  16st, 

Fixes  his  steady  g&ze. 
And  steers,  undoubting,  to  the  friendly  coast; 
And  they  who  stray  in  perilous  wastes,  by  7ughty 
Are  gldd  when  thou  dost  shine  |  to  guide  their  footsteji 
right. 

7. 

And  theref6re  |  bards  of  61d, 
S4ges  and  hermits  of  the  solemn  w6od. 

Did  I  in  thy  beams  |  behold  | 
A  beauteous  type  |  of  that  unchanging  g6od, 
That  bright  |  eternal  beacon,  by  whose  ray  | 
The  voyager  of  time  |  should  shape  his  heedful  wky. 

Bbvaxt. 


f// 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  379 

22.    THE  AMERICAN  FLAG. 

\To   he  read  with   declamatory   and  dramatic  force,  radical  and 
thorough  stress,  and  orotund  qualiti/.'} 

1.  When  Freedom  from  her  mountain  height 

Unfurled  her  standard  to  the  air, 
She  tore  the  azure  robe  of  night, 

And  set  the  stars  of  gh)ry  there; 
She  mingled  with  its  gorgeous  dyes 
The  milky  baldric  of  the  skies, 
And  striped  its  pure  celestial  white 
With  streakings  of  the  morning  light  j 
Then,  from  his  mansion  in  the  sun. 
She  called  her  eagle-bearer  down. 
And  gjive  into  his  mighty  hand 
The  symbol  of  her  chosen  land. 

2.  Majestic  monarch  of  the  cloud! 
Who  rear'st  aloft  thy  regal  form, 

To  hear  the  tempest-trumpings  loud 

And  see  the  lightning  lances  driven. 
When  strive  the  warriors  of  the  storm. 

And  rolls  the  thunder-dnmi  of  heaven, — 
Child  of  the  Sun!   to  thee  'tis  given 

To  guard  the  banner  of  the  freej 
To  hover  in  the  sulphur-smoke. 
To  ward  away  the  ])attle-stroke, 
And  bid  its  blendings  shine  afar, 
Like  rainbows  on  the  cloud  of  war — 

The  harbingers  of  victory! 

3.  Flag  of  the  brave!  thy  folds  sliall  fly, 
The  sign  of  hope  and  triumph  high, 
When  speaks  the  signal  trumpet  tone, 
And  the  long  line  comes  gleaming  on. 
"Ere  yet  the  life-blood,  warm  and  wet^ 
Has  dimmed  the  gliBteniug  bayonet, 


380  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

Each  soldier's  eye  shall  brightly  tnm 
To  where  thy  sky-born  glories  burn; 
Andy  as  his  springing  steps  advance, 
Catch  war  and  vengeance  from  the  glance; 
And,  when  the  cannon-monthings  loud 
Heave  in  wild  wreaths  the  battle-shroud, 
And  gory  sabers  rise  and  fall 
Like  shoots  of  flame  on  midnight's  pall, 
Then  shall  thy  meteor  glances  ^low, 

And  cowering  foes  shall  fall  beneath 
Each  gftllant  arm  that  strikes  below 

That  lovely  messenger  of  death. 

4.   Flag  of  the  seas!  on  ocean's  wave 
Thy  stars  shall  glitter  o'er  the  brave. 
When  Death,  careering  on  the  gale, 
Sweeps  darkly  round  the  bellied  sail, 
And  frighted  waves  rush  wildly  back, 
Before  the  broadside's  reeling  rack, 
Each  dying  wanderer  of  the  sea 
Shall  look  at  once  to  heaven  and  thee, 
And  smile  to  see  thy  splendors  fly. 
In  triumph,  o'er  his  closing  eye. 

^.    Flag  of  the  free  heart's  only  home. 

By  angel  hands  to  valor  given, 
Thy  stars  have  lit  the  welkin  dome, 

And  all  thy  hues  were  bom  in  heaven. 
Forever  float  that  standard  sheet! 

"Where  breathes  the  foe  but  falls  before  us, 
With  Freedom's  soil  beneath  our  feet, 

And  Freedom's  banner  waving  o'er  us! 


cV 


Drake. 


.N»    i.i.w..     1.1. »;,    i    TTON.  381 

23.     THE   CHAMBERED   NAUTILUS. 

[The  reading  of  this  poem  should  he  characterised  by  slow  movement, 
median  stress,  pure  tone,  and  orotund  quality.  To  he  marked  by  the 
doss  for  emphasis,  inflectionj  and  pauses.'] 

This  is  the  ship  of  p6arl,  which,  poets  feign. 

Sails  the  unshadowed  mahi,— ^ 

The  ventiu-ous  bark  that  flings/ 
On  the  sweet  summer  wind  [its  purpled  wings 
In  gulfs  enchanted,  where  tn^  siren  sic^s, 

And  coral  reefs  lie  bare,^^ 
Where  the  cold  sea-maids  rise  to  sun  their  streaming  . 
hair. 

2. 

Its  webs /of  living  gauze/ no  moi^  unfurl; 

Wrecked  is  the  ship/  of  nearl ! 

And  every  chambered  cell,  > 

\Wliere  its  dim  dreaming  life  was  wont  to  dwell, 
As  the  fmil  tenant  shaped  his  growing  sholl. 

Before  tliee/lies  revealeS—-       ^-   >, 
Its  irisei  ceiling  rent,  its  sunless  cr^^t  omsealbd! 

Year  after  year  beheld  the  silent  ^mf  '' 

Th/it  spread  his  lustrous  coil^' 

Still,  as  the  spiral  grew,  -^/-^   '■ 
He  left  the  past  yeai-'s  dwelling  for  the  new. 
Stole  with  soft  step  its  signing  archway  throtTgh,  \ 

Built  up  its  idle  door, 
Stretched  in  his  last  found  home,  and  knew  the  old  no 
more. 

Thanks  for  the  heavenly  message  brought  by  thee, 
Cliild  of  tlie  wandering  aea. 
Cast  from  her  lap  forlorn^! 


882  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

/ 

From  thy  dead  lips  a  clearer  note  is  bom 
Than  ever  Triton  blew  from  wreath^  hoVn ! 

While  on  my  ear  it  riri^, 
Through  the  deep  caves  of  thought  I  hear  a  voice  tha 
sings,— 

Build  thee  more  stately  mansions,  O  my  t>oul, 

As  the  swift  seasons  roll! 

Leave  thy  low-vaultcnl  past!  ^ 

Let  each  new  temple,  nobler  than  the  last. 
Shut  thee  fronP  heaven  with  a  dome  more  v^t, 
•  Till  thou  at  length  art  free,  v 

Leaving  thine  outgr^wTi  ^lioll  by  life's  unresting  sea! 

noLxn 


24.    KENTUCKY  BELLE. 

1. 

Summer  of  'sixty-three,  sir,  and  Conrad  was  gone  away 
Gone  to  the  county-town,  sir,  to  sell  our  first  load  of  hay 
We  lived  in  the  log-house  yonder,  poor  as  ( v»  r  you'v* 

seen  \ 
Roschen  there  was  a  baby,  and  I  was  only  nineteen. 

o 

Conrad,  he  took  the  oxen,  but  hi*  left  Kentucky  Belle. 
How  much  we  thought  of  Kentuck,  I  couldn't  begin  t< 

tell— 
Came  from  the  Blue-Grass  country:  my  father  gave  he] 

to  me 
When  I  rode  north  with  Conrad,  away  from  the   Ten 

nessee. 

3. 
Conrad  Uved  in  Ohio,  a  German  he  is,  you  know; 
The  house  stood  in  broad  cornfields,  stretching  on,  ro^w 
after  row. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  383 

The  old  folks  made  me  welcome  j  they  were  kind  as 
kind  could  be; 

But  I  kept  longing,  longing,  for  the  hills  of  the  Ten- 
nessee. 

4. 

Oh!  for  a  sight  of  water,  the  shadowed  slope  of  a  hill! 
Clouds  that  hang  on  the  summit^  a  wind  that  never  is 

still! 
But  the  level  land  went  stretching  away  to  meet  the 

sky,  ^ 

Never  a  rise,  from  north  to  south,  to  rest  the  weary  eye! 

5. 

Prom  east  to  west,  no  river  to  shine  out  xmder  the  moon, 
Nothing  to  make  a  shadow  in  the  yellow  tifternoon: 
Only  the  breathless  sunsliine,  as  I  looked  out,  all  forlorn; 
Only  the  "rustle,  rustle,"  as  I  walked  among  the  com. 


When  I  fell  siek  with  |uiuiil:,  nv*.-  diil  n't  wait  any  more. 

But  moved  away  from  the  corn-lands,  out  to  this  river- 
shore — 

The  Tuscarawas  it'<  <*ji11<m1.  sir;  off  there's  a  hill,  you 
see; 

And  now  I've  grown  to  like  it  next  best  to  the  Ten- 
nessee. 

7. 
I  was  at  work  that  morning.     Some  one  came  riding 

like  mad 
Over  the  bridge  and  up  the  road— Parmer  Roof's  little 

lad. 
Bareback  he  rode:   he  ha<l  no  hat:    he  hardly  stopped 

to  say. 
"Morgan's  men  are  coming,  i^'rau;  luey  re  galloping  on 

this  way. 


384  SCHOOL   ELOCUTION. 

8. 
"I'm   sent   to   warn    tli.     neiji^hbors.     He  isn't  a  mile 

behind; 
He  sweeps  up  all  the  horses — every  horse  that  he  can 

find. 
Morgan,  Morgan  the  raider,  and  Morgan's  terrible  men, 
With  bowie-knives  and  pistols,  are   galloping  up  the 

glen!^ 

9. 

The  lad  rode  do^n  the  valley,  and  I  stood  still  at  the 

door. 
The  baby  laughed  and  i»r;it;]r(i.  |il;iy.(l  with  spools  on 

the  floor  J 
Ken  tuck  was  out  in  the  pasture;  Conrad,  my  man,  was 

gone. 
Near,  nearer,  Morgan's  men  were  galloping,  galloping  on : 

10. 
Sudden  I  picked  up  baby,  and  ran  to  the  pasture-bar. 
"Kentuck!"  I  called — "Kentucky!"    She  knew  me  ever 

so  far! 
I  led  her  down  the  gully  that  turns  off  there  to  the  right, 
And  tied  her  to  the  bushes;  her  head  was  just  out  of 

sight. 

11. 
As  I  ran  back  to  the  log  house,  at  once  there  came  a 

sound — 
The  ring  of  hoofs,  galloping  hoofs,  trembling  over  the 

ground — 
Coming  into  the  turnpike  out  from  the  "White- Woman 

Glen, 
Morgan,  Morgan  the  raider,  and  Morgan's  terrible  men. 

12. 
As  near  they  drew  and  nearer,  my  heart  beat  fast  in 
alarm; 


SCHOOL    KLOCUTION.  38') 

But  still  1  .st(>t)(l  ill  I  ho  door- way,  with  baby  on  my  arm. 
They  came;   they  passed;   with  spur  and  whip  in  haste 

they  sped  along — 
Morgan,  Morgan  the  raider,  and  his  band,  six  hundred 

strong. 

1:5. 
Weary  they  loukid  and  .j^ultMl,  ridiiij;  tlirough  iiighi  .iikI 

through  day; 
Pushing  on  east  to  the  river,  many  long  miles  away. 
To  the  border-strip  where  Virginia  runs  up  into  the  west, 
And  fording  the  Upper  Ohio  before  they  could  stop  to  rest. 

1  ]. 
Oil   like    the    wind    \\\ry    hui-ricd,   and    Mor<ran    mdi-    in 

advanei' ; 
Bright  were  his  eyes  like  live  coals,  as  he  gave   m.    ,1 

sideways  glance; 
And  I  was  just  breathing  freely,  after  my  choking  pain. 
When  the  last  one  of  the  troopers  suddenly  drew  his  reiii. 

15. 
Frightened  I  was  to  death,  sir;   I  scarce  dan^l  look  in 

his  face. 
As  he  asked  Inr  u  drink   ol    water,  and  glaiu-ud  amnnd 

the  place. 
I   gave   him   a  cup,  and  he   smiled — 'twas  only  a  boy, 

you  see; 
Faint  and  worn,  with   dim-blue  eyes;    and   he'd   8aih»<l 

<»n  the  Tennessee. 

IG. 
Only  sixteen  he  was,  sir — a  fond  mother's  only  son — 
Oflf  and  av/ay  with  M(»rgau  lM»fore  his  life  had  lH»gun ! 
The  damp  drops  st4M>d   <»n    Ids  f««iiM»l«'S!    «b-Mwii  was  tlie 

boyidi  mouth: 
And  I  thon   '  uoUur  wailing  Uuwn  m   iIk- 

South. 


.'W6  KLoruTioN. 

17. 
Oh !  pluck  was  he  to  the  liai'klKJiie,  and  clear  prrit  throuirli 

and  through; 
Boa8ted  and  bragfi^l  like  a  trooper;  but  the  h\^  wonK 

would  n*t  do; — 
The  boy  was  dying,  sir,  dying,  a8  plain  as  plaiu  * ould  1. 
Worn  out  by  his  ride  with  Morgan  up  from  the  Tt  i 

nessee. 

IS. 

But  when    T    t'»l*l    t]i».   l.i.Mit'  that   I    too  was  from   t] 

South, 
Water  came   in   his  dim   «*ves,  and   <iuivt*i*s  around  li 

mouth. 
**  Do   you    know   the    Hhu'-dniss    counti\  .'      Ip     uisttiil 

began  to  Kay; 
Tlien   swayed    like   a   willow-sapling,   and    fainU^d    (Ir.id 

away. 

19. 
I  had  him  into  the  log  house,  and  worked  and  bronglii 

him  to. 
I  fed  him,  ami  I  <m;i\.(1  Inin.  .o  1  tlioiiLrlii  lii>  hioiIi.t  M 

do; 
And  when  the  lad  got  l)ett^r,  and  the  noise  in  his  head 

was  gone, 
Moi^n^s  men  were  miles  away,  galloping,  galloping  on. 

20. 
'^Oh,  I  must  go,'^  he  muttered;      I  must  be  up  and  away! 
Morgan — Morgan    is   waiting    for    m.  :      Oh,   what    will 

Morgan  say?" 
But  I  heard  a  sound  of  tnimping  and  kept  him  back 

from  the  door — 
The  ringing   sound    of   liorsrs    hoofs   that   I   had    hrard 

before. 


2i. 
And  on,  on,  came  the  soldiers — the  Michigan  <avah-v — 
And  fast   they  rode,  and   bhwk   they  hK)ked,   ji:iUh)pin{; 

rapidly, — 
They  had  followed   hard  on   Morjifan's  tnu^k;   they  had 

followed  day  and  ni<rht; 
l^nt  of   Morgan   and    Morgan's   i;ii.1.M««    tli.-v  liai]    ii.\.t 

eaught  a  sight. 


And  rieh  Ohio  sat  startled   tlirongli  all   those  summer 

days; 
For,  strange,  wild  men  were  galloping  over  her  ])road 

highways — 
Xuw  here,  now  there,  now  seen,  now  gone,  now  north, 

now  east,  now  west, 
Tlirongh    river-valleys    ami    <  t.rn-l.iiid    laims.    sweeping 

away  her  best. 


A  bold  ride  and  a  long  ridf !     But  they  were  taken  at 

•  last. 
They  almost  reaehed  the  river  by  galloping  hard  and  fa.^t; 
But   the  boys   in   blue  were   upon   them      ^  r  flu  y 

gtuned  the  ford. 
And  Morgan,  Morgan  the  raider,  laid  down  his  terrible 

sword. 

W«»ll,   I  kept   the   boy   till   evening — kept  him  against 
his  will — 

Hut  he  was  too  How.  and  sat   tli-  nd 

still. 
WTien   it  was   .....  .    .>,.,,^_,    -_. ,,.,.  ^    ;..    iu-ar 

me  t^^ll — 
Bnt  I  stole  d<)wu  to  that  gully,  and  ]»rought    up  Ken- 

tueky  Belle. 


388  SCHOOL    ELOCUTION. 

25. 

I    kissed   \]u'   star   <mi    li- »•    ». .j-.-licad — iriy   ]»rrtty.   irciitl'' 

lUiiS — 

Bat  I  knew  that  she'd  be  happy  back  in  the  old  Bhie- 

Gra88. 
A  suit  of  clothes  of  Conrad's  with  all  iln"  Jiiomy  1  li;i«l. 
And  Kentucky  pretty  Kentucky  I  gave  to  the  worn-out 

lad. 

2G. 

1  fniidtnl  him  to  the  southward  as  wi»ll  as  1  know  how; 

The  ]M»y  rode  off  with  many  thanks,  and  many  a  hack- 
wan!  1k)W: 

And  then  fli«-  ulow  it  faded,  and  my  lic-iri  Im-ltmh  I*. 
swell, 

As  down  the  glen  away  she  went,  mv  lost  Kentuckx 
Belle!    ' 

27. 

When  Conrad  came  in  the  cveniii«r.  the  moon  was  shin- 
ing high; 

Baby  and  I  were  both  were  crying — ^I  couldn't  tell  him 
wh}-— 

But  a  battered  suit  of  rebel  gray  was  hanging  on  tin 
wall, 

And  a  thin,  old  liorse  with  drooping  head,  stood  in 
Kentucky's  stall. 

28. 
Well,  he  was  kind,  and  never  once  said  a  hard  word  t«» 

me; 
He  knew  I  could  n't  help  it — 't  was  all  for  the  Tennessee. 
But,  after  the  war  was  over,  just  think  what  c^me  t<» 

pass — 
\  letter,  sir;   and   tli«'   t\v(.   \\«-re   safe   ba^-k   in   tli«^  old 

Blue-Grass. 


29. 

The  1ml   liml    got   .k  i..»    the   border,   riding  Kentucky 

Belle; 
And  K«'?itiiclv  she  avjis  tln-ix-in-j-.  ;iihI   t.ii.  ;iii(i   li.;iri\.  ;m<l 

w  I'll  : 
He  eared  for  her  and  kept  her,   nor  touchiHl  her  witli 

whip  or  spur. 
Ah\  we've  htvd  many  horses  sinee,  but  never  a  horse 

like  her! 

COXSTAMCB  K.  WooM«I.X.       . 


25.     THE  CHARCOAL  MAN. 

1.  Tliough  rudely  blows  tlie  wintry  blast, 
And  sifting  snows  fall  white  and  fast, 
Mark  Haley  drives  idong  the  street, 
Perehed  high  upon  his  wagon  seat; 
His  somber  face  the  storm  defies, 

And  thus  from  morn  till  eve  he  cries, — 

^  Charro' !   rharco' !^^ 
Wliile  echo  faint  and  far  replies, — 

''Harh,  0!  Hat%  Or 
''Charco\'"^''Hark,  0/"— Such  cheery  sounds 
Attend  him  on  his  daily  rounds. 

2.  The  dust  begrimes  Ids  ancient  hatj 
His  eoat  is  darker  far  than  that; 
Tis  odd  to  scHJ  his  sooty  fonn 

A\\  sjuMjlded  with  the  feathery  st*»rni; 

Yet  in  his  honest  bosom  lies 

Nor  spot  nor  speck, — though  still  he  cries, — 

''Charco'!   chared  r 
And  many  a  roguish  lud  r»i»lirs. — 

^'Arh,  ho!  (irkh 
**Charro^ I*^ — "ylrA",  ho.'  — Mich  vanmis  sounds 
Announce  Mark  Haley's  morning  nmnds. 


',VJO  SCHOOL    ELOiUTiON. 

3.    Thus  all  the  cold  aud  wintry  day 
He  labors  much  for  little  i)ay; 
Yet  feels  no  less  of  hap})ines8 
Than  many  a  richer  man,  I  gue^s. 
When  through  the  shades  of  eve  ht;  spies 
The  light  of  his  own  home,  and  cries, — 

''Charcot!  charco' r 
And  Martha  from  the  door  rephes, — 

''Mark,  ho!  Marh,  ho!'' 
*  Chared' !'' — ''Marh,  ho!'' — Such  joy  abounds 
When  he  has  closed  his  dailv  rounds. 


The  hearth  is  warm,  the  fire  is  bright; 

And  while  his  hand,  washed  clean  and  v^-^-\ 

Holds  Martha^s  tender  hand  once  more, 

His  glowing  face  bends  fondly  o'er 

The  crib  wherc*in  his  darling  lies. 

And  in  a  coaxing  tone  he  cries, 

''Charco'!  rharro' !" 
And  baby. with  a  laugh  ii  pli<  -. — 

''Ahy  go!  ah,  go!" 
''Charco' !"'—'' Ah,  go!^ — while  at  the  sounds 
The  mother's  heart  with  gladness  bounds. 

Then  honoretl  be  the  charcoal  man! 

Though  dusky  as  an  African, 

'Tis  not  for  you,  that  chance  to  be 

A  little  l)etter  cltui  than  he. 

His  honest  manhood  to  despise. 

Although  fi'oni  mom  till  eve  he  cries, — 

"  Charco'  !  chared' !" 
While  mocking  echo  stiU  replies, — 

''Hark,  0!  hark,  0/" 
''Chared !■'—" Hark,  0/"— Long  may  the  sounds 
P*roclaiin  Mark  Haley's  daily  rounds.      tbowbridge. 


SCHOOL    ELOCUTION.  391 

liG.    GRANDMOTHER'S  STORY  ui    BUNKER  HILL. 

{The  Hpirittd  rendcrimj  of  IhUi  yraphie  picture  affortls  a  wide  scope 
for  variety  of  expression.     Care  must  he  taken  not  to  overdo  it."} 

1. 
'Tis  like   stiniiijr   livinir   t'lnluTs   wlicn.   .it    .iLility.    oik 

remembers 
^Vll  the  aeliiiigs  and   the  qiiakings  ol    'tin    times  that 

tried  men's  souls"} 
When  I  talk  of   Whig  and  Tory,  when  I  tell  the  Rebel 

storj', 
To  you  the  words  ai*e  ashes,  but  to  me  they're  burning 

coals. 

I  had  heard  the  muskets'  rattle  of  the  April  running 

battle; 
Lord   Percy's  liimttd   soldiers,  1  can   st-f   tluii-  r.-W  coats 

still; 
But  a  dea<lly  (^hUl  comes  o'er  in- .    i^  the  day  looms  up 

before  me, 
"When   a  thousand  men    l;iy   l>leeding  on  the  slopes  of 

Bunker's  Hill. 

3. 
'Twas  a   peaceful   summer's    morning,   when    the    first 

thin^'  pive'us  warning 
Was  tilt'  iKMHiiinir  of  the  raniion   fmin  tin*  rivrr  and  \hv 

••l'hil<l,'  ^;l^-  -i  iiMliua,  "wiiai  >  in»'  mailer,  am  U 

this  i)t.i>.    .111(1  clatter! 
Have  those  scalping  Indian  devils  <miii.    to  munici    u 

on....     i.w.rcT" 

4. 
Poor  old  soul'    my  -ides  were  shaking  m   tli-    midst  ot 

all  my  (piaking, 
To  hear  her  t^Uk  of  Indians  when  the  guns  began  to  roar: 


392  -"  II  <  M  .  L    i:  L(  M  I    r  1 . .  N  . 

She  had  seen   the  burniug  village,  and  the  slau^ht*  i 

and  the  pillage, 
When  the  Mohawks  killed  her  fathor  witli  ih.  ir  l»ullti.s 

through  his  door. 

Then  I  said,  **Now,  dear  old  granny,  don't  y^u  iri  and 

worrj'  any, 
For  I'll   t>oon  conu*   hack    and   tcH   von   whotlnr    !iii>    i- 

work  or  play; 
There  can^t  be  niischin    m    n.    -<•    I    wont    1m-   ^oih'   , 

minute" — 
For  a  minute  then  I  start od.     1  was  jroue  the  livelon 

day. 

G. 
Xo  time  for  bodice-lacing  or  for  looking-glass  grimataug, 
Down  my  hair  went  as  I  hurried,  tumbling  half-way 

to  my  heels; 
Goil   forbid    your    ever    knnwijiir.    wlnii    there's    blood 

around  her  flowing, 
How  the  lonely,  helpless  daughter  of  a  quiet  househoM 

feels ! 

7. 

In  the  street  I  heard  a  thumping;   and  I  knew  it  was 

the  stumping 
Of  the  Corporal,  our  <>1<1   nei«r]il)(n\  on  tliat  wooden  leir 

he  wore. 
With  a  knot  of  women  round  him, — it  was  lucky  I  had 

found  him, 
8u  I  followed  with  the  others,  and  the  Corporal  marched 

before. 

8. 
They  were  making  fur  the  steeple, — the  old  soldier  and 
his  people; 


(      II  *  M  )  L       I,  |,(  M     I      I    I  < 


'm 


The  pigeons  circled  round  us  a«  we  cliuilxjd  the  >  r.  .ik 

ing  stair, 
Just  across  the  narrow  river — O,  so  dose  it  made  me 

shiver ! — 
St<M)d  a  fortress  on  the  hill-top  that  but  yesterday  was 

bare. 

9. 

Not  slow  our  eyes  to  find  it;  well  we  knew  wlio  stood 
behind  it, 

Though  the  eaithwork  hid  them  from  iis,  jind  the  stub- 
born waUs  were  dumb: 

Here  were  sister,  wife,  and  motlier,  looking  wild  ujwn 
emdi  other. 

And  their  lips  were  white  with  t<'ir<»i  ;i>  iIk  v  siiid,  TiiL 
HOUR  HAS  come! 

ID. 

I'll'     morning    slowly    wasted,    not   ji    morsel    had  .we 

tasted, 
And  our  heads  were  almost  splitting  with  the  cannons* 

deafening  thrill. 
When  a  figure  ttill  iind  sUitA'ly  round  the  i-ampaiL  .sliodo 

sedately; 
It  was  Prescott,  one  since  told  me;   he  commanded  on 

the  hiU. 

11. 
woman's    Ip  an     grew  bigger   wlun    v  n- 

manly  figure. 
With    the    1)anyan    bueklrd    nuiml    it.    sf;iii(Hin«'    m.    sv» 

iraight  aiul  tallj 
iiikr   a   gi-ntleman   of  leLsm-f    who   is   .siruiliug   ci!!    for 

plea.-^uiv, 
Thii)ugh  the  storm  of  shells  and  cannon-shot  he  walked 
•"•'»'""'  ♦«>*.  wall. 


394 


I.    i.«   M      I       I     1   <   ..\ 


IL'. 

At  eleven  the  8trt»et8  wrv  -w  inniiu.  tor  the  red-coats' 
ranks  were  forming; 

At  noon  in  marching  order  th  moving  to  the  piers; 

How  the  bayonets  gleamed  and  glistened,  as  we  looked 
far  down  and  listened 

To  the  tramping  and  the  dnun-beat  of  the  belted  gren- 
adiers ! 


At   Icii^in    inr   iinii   iia\r  .slarh'd,   witii  a  ciifci       ;    -'  '  nied 

faiiit-hi'iirtftl), 
In  their  scarlet   rt^gimentals,   with  their  knapsacks    on 

their  backs, 
And  the  retldening  ripplin^r  water,  as  after  a  sea-ftght's 

slaught<M 
Bound   the   b«igt>   gUuiui^   i»in\anl    '  !u>li'  1    Ukr    l)l()ud 

along  their  tracks. 

14. 
S(.   they  ci'ossed  to  the  other  Ixmler,   and   again  they 

formed  in  order; 
And  the  boats  came  back  for  soldiers,  came  for  soldiers, 

soldiers  still: 
The   time   seemed   everlasim^    to    us    womtMi    laini    .iiid 

fasting, — 
At  last  thev're  moving,  marching,  marching  proudlv  up 

the  hili. 


15. 
We  can  see  the  bright  steel  glancing  all  along  the  lines 

advancing — 
Now   the   front   rank    tire    a    vulley — they   liave    thrown 

away  their  shot; 
For  behind  their   earthwork  lying,  all  the  baUs  ab(>\' 

them  flpng, 
Our  people  need  not  hurry:   so  they  wait  and  answer  not. 


scuo(»  395 

16. 
Then  the  Cor|K)ral,  our  old  cripple  (he  would  swear  Hoiue- 

timen  and  tipple), — 
He  had  heard  the  bullHs   wliistl*-     m    tin    ..1.1    I'l.ii.li 

wai-)  before, — 
Cidls  out   iu  words  of  jeering,  just  ius  if  they  all  wei*e 

hearing, — 
And  his  wooden  leg  thumps  fiercely  on  the  dusty  belfrj' 

floor: — 

17. 
oh:    fire  away,  ye  villains,  and   earn   King  George's 

shillings, 
But  ye '11  wtiste  a  ton  of  powder  afore  a  ^^ebel'  falls; 
You  may  bang  the  dirt  and  welcome,  they^re  as  safe  as 

Dan'l  Malcolm 
Ten  feet  beneath  the  gravestone  that  you've  splintered 

mth  your  balls!" 

In  the  linsh  of   expectation,  in  llit*  awu  and  livpidalinn 
Of   the   dread   approaching   moment,    we   are    wellnigh 

breathless  all; 
Though  the  rotten  bars  an*  fMilinir  <»ii  tlic  nckuty  belfry 

railing, 
We  are  crowding  up  against  them  like  the  waves  against 

a  walL 

19. 
Just  a  glimpse  (tli  clearer),  they   are   nearer,— 

nearer, — nearer, 
When  a  flash — a  curling  smoke-wreath — then  a  crash — 

the  steeple  shakes — 
Til.*    <1.M«]K-    truce    is    ended;    the    t«'inin'st.'s    shroud    is 

L.ikt   a  niDrnniLT  mist   it  gathered,  like  u  ihunder-cloud 
it  bix'aks! 


396  <)L    ELOCUTION. 

20 

O  the  sight  oi  blue-black  smol 

blows  over  I 
The  red-coat8  stnadul   m        :  diuw.^   i    .. 

his  hay; 
Here  a  scarlet  heap  is  licmlloag  crowd 

flying 
Like   a  billow   that   Iihs   broken  and   is   shivered    inio 

8j)ray. 

21. 
Tlu'ii  \Vf  i-nnl,  "  Till-  irucjj.-  -t  — 

it  ean  't  be  doulitinl  I 
God  he  thanked,  the  fight  in  over!" — ^Ah!    the  griiu  old 

soldier's  smile! 
"Tell  lis,  tell  us  why  ild  hardly 

speak,  we  sh(Kik  so), — 
"  Are  they  beaten !  Are  they  beaten  f  Are  they    „:    : .'  ^' 

—"Wait  a  while." 

22. 
O  the  trembling  and  the  terror!   for  too  soon  we  saw. 

'  our  error: 
They   are   baffled,  not  defeated;   we   have  driven  them 

back  in  vainj 
And  the  columns  that  were  scatt<'r«'<l    ioiukI   tin*  cold 

that  were  tattered, 
Toward  the  sidlen  silent  fortress  tuiu  their  belted  brea- 
again. 

23. 

All  at  on<  aiT  gazing,  lo  tlie  roofs  of  CharL 

t^wn  bl;iziiig! 
They  have  fired  the  harmless  villair*':   in  an  horn*  it  will 

be  down  J 
The  Lord  in  heaven  confound   tliem,  rain   liis  fir«*  and 

brimstone  round  them, — 


The  robbing,  murd.  , ,  ^    .  .,!-.•.. ;ii^   ihai    wmiM    l.ni-tt   m 
poacef  111  towii ! 

•J}. 

They  are  marching,  stern  and  solemn;   we  can  see  each 

massive  colnmn 
As  they  near  the  naked  earth-mound  with  the  slanting 

walls  so  steep. 
Have   our  soldiers   got   faint-hearted,   and  in   noiseless 

haste  departed? 
\r«'  tlii'v  panic-struek  .nid   Iwlplessf     Arc  iIh'v  palsied 
asleep  ? 

J. ). 

Now!   the  walls  tliey'i-*'  ahnosl    under!   searee  a  i<'<i   t'l 
foes  asunder! 

Not  a  fii-eloek  flashed  against  them!   up  the  earthwork 
tliey  will  swarm! 

But  the  words  have  scarce  been  spoken,  when  the  omi- 
nous calm  is  broken, 

And  a   l>ellowing  crash  has  emptied  all  the  vengeance 
of  the  stonu ! 

2G. 
^■'   .ijaiii,  with   inur(lf!-(.us  slaughter,  ]><'"ii.Mi    L.-i.-ku-.-ndv 

!'•  the  wattT, 
Fly  l*igot'8  running  heroes  and  the  frightened  braves 

of  Howe; 
And    we   shout,       \i    last   they're   done   for,   it's   their 

barges  they  have  run  for: 
They  are  beaten,  beaten,  beaten;   and  the  ]»attle's  over 

III i\S    '  " 

27. 

Ami  we  looked,  poor  timid  <T«'Mtiiv«><.  on   tli.'  »-. Hi.ri,  ,,1.1 

soldier's  features, 
( )ur  lips  afraid  to  question,  but  he  knew  wliat  we  would 

ask: 


:{U8  ^,  li, ,, , ;    j, i..M'UTiox. 

"Not  sure,"  he  said;  "keep  qniet, — once  more^  I  guess. 

theyni  tr>'  it- 
Here's  damnation  to  the  cut-throat« ! '' — then  he  handed 

me  his  Htkdc, 

Saying,  "Gal,  youY*'  looking  shaky;    have  a  drop  of 

old  Jamaijcy; 
Pm  afeard  thereMl    l-    him,    tiMnM.    afore  the  job  is 

done;** 

So   I   took  one  s<H»n*irni«''    swnlliiw:    iln'Mdfnl    t  lint     I     felt 

and  hoUow, 
Standing  thert»  from  tarly  iiit>niing  when  tliu  iiiiug  was 
Iwirun. 

20. 
All  through  those  hours  of  trial  I  hml  watehed  a  o^iii 

oloek-4lial, 
Aa  the  hands  kept  eree]>inir.  f napping, — they  were  cno])- 

ing  round  to  four, 
When  the  old  man  said,  **  They 're  forming  with  their 

bagonets  fixed  for  stonning: 
It's  the  death-ginp  that's  a  coming, — they  will  try  the 

works  once  more.'' 

30. 

With  brazen  trumi)ets  blaring,  the  flames  behind  them 
glaring, 

The  deadly  waU  before  them,  in  close  array  they  come: 

Still  onward,  upward  toiling,  like  a  dragon's  fold  un- 
coiling,— 

Like  the  rattlesnake's  shriU  warning  the  reverberating 
drum ! 

31. 
Over  heaps  nil   torn   and  irorv — ^;llall   I  teU  the   fearful 
story, 


-     11.  n.  390 

Hiuv  they  SlirpMl  Ji1)(»v»'  tlu'  lin-nsfwi )!•]<.  as  M  s«'U  Im'jlks 
•  •r  a  deck: 

ilow,  driven,  yet  scanM-  (itifaltii.  uur  worn-out  men  re- 
treated. 

With  their  p<>w<li*r-li<>m8  all  einptiwl,  like  the  swimmers 
from  n   wn-rk  ? 

32. 
It  has  all  Imen   told  and   ]Kiintrd:    as  for  im.  ti 

I  faint<»d, 
And  the  wtuMlen-leirire*!   old   ('or[»oral    snniipid   wiili    ni«' 

down  the  stair: 
When  I  woke  from  dreams  affrifi:hted,  the  eveninj?  lamps 

were  lighted, — 
On  the  floor  a   yonth   was  lyinjr;    his   l)lee<linjr    i-i'  i-i 

was  bare. 


And  I  heard  throiiirli  all  iIm-  limiv.     >> mi   i.>r  Waukkn  i 

huiTv  I    hnny ! 
Tell  him  here's  a  soldier  bleedinjr,  and  he'll  «t»iii(    ;uh1 

dress  his  wonnd  ! " 
Ah,  we  knew  not  till  the  morrow  told  its  iil.    .>t  (j.aih 

and  sorr(>w, 
How  tlie  starlight  fonnd  him  stilfene<l  on  tlie  dark  and 

bloody  ground. 

:U. 
^Vho   the  yonth   was,   what   his   name   was,   wheri>    tli. 

place  from  which  lie  eame  was, 
Wlio  had  brought  him   from  the  battle,  and  had  left 

him  at  our  door. 
He  could  not  speak  to  tell  us;    but    i  n 

brave  fellows, 
As  the  homespun   j)laiiily   showc.l    n-    v^lii.h    th.    ..^.M_ 

soldier  wore. 


For   thfV  all   thoujjht    In*   wns   <lyin»r.   as   they  gathei' 

round  him  cryiiig, — 
And  they  said,  "  O,  how  they  11  miss  him ' 

irill  his  mother  do?*"     ^ 
'Difti,  his  eyelids  just   inir]<i>iii.-   1!..     i    ,1mI.i\   tiiMt    i 

«*n  dozing,         ' 
lie  faintly  murmured,    *  Mo11j« 

WIT»'    1)1  IH'. 

— '*  Wliv,  irniiulma,  how  you  Vo  winkinir  !  * — Ah,  my  eliild. 
thinking 

»  'I     a    -  T     like    tl   ■  -o!lH'h<>W    ll\t(l 

'  }U*h  otli  ii-sed  hill 

;l lllnlli.  ?• 

Till   at   last  h'  i.ill,  and  rosv-eli« 


37. 
And  we  sometimes  walked  together  in  the  pleasant  sum 

mer  weather; 
— ** Please  to  tell  us  what    hi  ,i-     — lu-t    \    ui 

\\  n,  my  little  dear,^ 
iaitiv's  his  picture   Cojtlry   p.-iiiii.-d:    w.-  1..  .,.,..    -     "  -i^ 

acquainted. 
That — in  short,  that's  why  I'm  grandma,  and  you  <]iil- 
(IrtMi  all  aw*  here!  ^     *  t: 


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